Between Worlds
by 1freespirit
Summary: What if the original Fma and Brotherhood were mixed in a mashup story? Two groups on two different sides wanted to play God. But the repercussions Truth dished out for them weren't enough it seems. The timeline is messed up, both worlds are at stake, if not there's a third involved. Sandra and Ed not only switched bodies, but worlds. They need anything they can get to fix things.
1. Chapter 1

USA 2015

Electricity. That was the only way she could explain it. Beautiful, blue electricity. It was hard to picture this electricity as beautiful when it was painful, but surprisingly, it was.

She was aware that her feet were stuck to the ground, no matter how hard she tried to pull them off, they were just stuck there, as if they had a mind of their own. She was also was aware of the blood-curdling screaming. It was a mixture of her own, her mother's and someone else. It sounded vaguely masculine, though a bit high pitched.

The only thing running through her mind was the pain, the unbelievable pain that arced throughout her entire being and the fleeting thought of escape. That is until someone had tackled her like a linebacker trying to recover a football from the other team. The sudden release from the blue swaths of light and power was more shocking than being the literal end of her personal barbecue (pun not intended). She was sure that she was inside her miniature hell for only half a minute at the least, but she could already feel the pulls of unconsciousness lulling her into false sleep.

She blinked rapidly, as she stared at the greying sky. As she continued to blink, the scene switched to an entirely different new one. The sky was replaced by a brown roof, particularly one that was moving slightly, like a car. there was a lot of commotion, mostly consisting running, yelling, and the faint sound of a train ride. Everything was distinctly becoming darker and darker as she started to lose consciousness, and she could faintly hear a boy calling someone's name.

"_d! Ed! C_n you h_r m_?" As the girl's sight faded away, her last conscious thoughts were, who the hell is Ed? then everything faded black.

Past: Two hours ago

"Sandra come on! We don't want to be late!" Yelled her mother. Sandra could already see the annoyance, fear and concern in her mother's face, even though she was at the bottom of the steps, beyond her sight. The truth was, Sandra really didn't want to go. She was just as afraid like her mother, maybe a bit more.

She was getting dressed as her mother rushed her to hurry, because she was going to visit the cemetery, the same cemetery her sister was buried in.

"Coming mom!" She yelled back.

For three years she had skillfully avoided going to the cemetery with her mother. The first time, she had a panic attack, and it took her mother at least an hour to get her to calm down. The second, she faked illness, and the third, she had simply gone into her hiding spot that her mother couldn't find and camped there until her mother just left.

It was a small panel that gave away when she pushed it slightly, and inside was enough room for at least three people. She had discovered it years ago with her sister, and it was their secret. Now, it was her's alone.

She had agreed with her mother that she would come with her, whether she wanted to back out or not. Sandra remembered the last-night conversation, especially when she expressed her fear of another panic attack, her mother had just simply wrapped her arms around her and said, "you can ask your sister for help." After that, she was too shocked to try and protest.

Sandra grasped her phone, mainly for her music to keep her company, and she also took her headset, a few pencils, and her favorite drawing book. She was determined to distract herself as much as possible during their time in the cemetery.

Sandra snagged a glance across her room. So much had changed over the past three years. The window shades were shut tight, giving the room an old look. In a matter of seconds she pushed away the blinds letting rays of light spill into her room.

This action caught her off guard and she quickly shut them. This wasn't the first time she did this. Ever since her sister's death, she was at war with herself, deciding to never look at the world again with a sense of happiness or color, but always backfiring herself. She took a deep breath and mumbled, "let's get it over with."

On the car ride to the cemetery, Sandra saw some of her friends walking. They were laughing, and teasing each other about boys or something. They seemed like strangers, distant people of an unknown planet, after her sister's death. She had deliberately separated herself from them, friends didn't seem like anything important anymore.

One of her friends, Micheal, saw her in the car and waved. Sandra managed a small one in return before the car passed them completely. Her phone bleeped very audibly and she checked what it was. In the space of time that it took her mother's car to pass by her group of old friends, Micheal had sent a message. It read,

 _Mike: Say hi to her for me will ya? Also, what have you been doing lately? We miss you._

Sandra stared at her phone in astonishment. There was no absolute way he could've known that she was going to the cemetery to visit her sister. Plus, who was he to try and investigate what she did in her spare time? Her reply was quick and swift.

 _Bubbs: She would rather you visit in person and what I do is my business and my business alone._

She sat there, contemplating the outcomes of the text that she had sent. Would he be hurt, or curious as to what she was doing? Her receiving message was enough for an answer,

 _Mike: Alright, you got me. I'll say hi to her in person. I saw you a couple days ago, drawing something. What was it?_

She rolled her eyes. How could a guy be so perceptive in one moment and then absolutely clueless the next? Before she could stop herself, she texted back,

 _Bubbs: you._

She wanted to smack herself. In that one simple three letter text, she had practically implied that Micheal was an idiot. In a matter of thirty seconds, the conversation had become this,

 _Mike: ...Doing what?_

 _Bubbs: hugging someone._

 _Mike: ...hugging?...you?_

 _Bubbs: no. Her._

 _Mike: uhh...okay. Is it for her?_

 _Bubbs: That's need to know info._

After that, Micheal didn't bother to reply. It didn't take a genius to understand that this was for her sister. Anything that had to do with Micheal was for her sister.

Five minutes later, Sandra and her mother arrived at the cemetery. As her mother parked the car, Sandra took in her surroundings.

The grave markers stood up from the ground, like the jagged teeth of a monster. The small building sat near the entrance and it had a sign that was unreadable from her distance. The whole area was bleak, old and grey, apart from the black gates that surrounded the church building. She frowned, thinking _, My god, someone needs to put some color in here. Some flowers maybe?_

Her eye's widened as she realized what she just thought. _My ass they need color. It's gonna clash with the ugly grey._

She shook her head. Damnit. She thought. _It's no use, trying to cut off the old me_.

She sighed. _Might as well live with it._

She stepped out of the car, savoring the crisp, cool air of the wind. She stood there, hoping to forget about everything until she heard her mother swear some unsightly words.

"Sandra, can you be a sweetheart and buy some flowers in that building over there? They sell them as well as gravestones." She rolled her eyes. "Mom, I told you not to call me 'sweetheart'. And fine, I'll get some flowers."

She stalked off, muttering about the damned flowers and their worthless purpose for the day, skirting around small and large stones alike and traveling down a small, narrow pathway to the church yard, where she came upon a rather confusing problem.

There was a giant red puddle on the ground, between the gateway to her destination and where she was now.

She squatted on her haunches, trying to figure out where the liquid had come from. It certainly didn't pop up there, they had just walked through a minute ago. Nonetheless, it was there, mocking her with the silence of a predestined failure.

Sandra stood up, determined to get past without hindrance. So what did it matter if she got her boots wet? That's what they were for, but even then she couldn't help but feel a unrelenting sense of danger.

She stepped forward, into the puddle, and followed up with her left foot. After that she couldn't seem to lift her legs off the ground. Trying to figure out what was going on, she was engulfed by bright blue sparks of lightning, and stabbed with racing pain.

She was confused, shocked, and fearful at the same time. She didn't know what else to do but one thing, and she chose that option. She started to scream.

Amestris 1913

Alphonse could barely contain his disappointment in his brother. Once again he was watching his big brother flip out as someone called him short. Edward could never contain himself, even during the most difficult situations. Like now, for instance.

They were in the middle of stopping another train hijack and some random man involved with the heist underestimated Ed, and he was drastically paying for it right now.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING A TINY LITTLE PIPSQUEAK!?" demanded the blonde. He clapped his hands together and transmuted his right arm into a hand-sword, charging the man. The guy (who had unfortunately insulted Ed) lifted his rifle a tad too late as it was cut clean in two, rendering it useless. Just as the stranger's gaze followed the second half of his fallen rifle, Ed delivered a straight punch into the man's abdomen, causing him to crumple to the floor.

Short outburst over with, Alphonse started on giving Ed a lecture on keeping his cool.

"Brother please, he never said that." he said. No matter how hard he tried to teach Ed about the word "calm", the word always went out the window, be it train, car or room window.

"He still meant the same thing!" retorted the blond.

It was funny, how the young alchemist was only fourteen and yet he had the mannerisms of a child. He clapped again, and transmuted the hand sword back into his very useful automail.

Alphonse tried to reason with his brother again, if only he had the chance. The train jarred violently, swinging Ed and Al off balance. Ed landed on the seats of the train, while Alphonse was more graceful in regaining his balance.

"That...wasn't...part of the...plan...dammit." the man said. Despite being punched in the gut by a teen with training, he was still trying to fight. He pushed himself up, supported by his arms.

After stumbling back onto the train's walkway, Edward stalked forward and grabbed the man by his shirt collar then demanded, "What plan bastard?"

The man laughed with scorn, despite the menacing look in the gold eyes that watched him with a silent threat. "You think I'll tell you? I'm not gonna tell you or your armored buddy flapjack squat."

"Five second warning!" yelled Ed. "What was the plan?!"

The man paused, then he tilted his head,and smiled, all the while wasting the five meager seconds he was given. His smile widened. "That's need to know information."

Shirt collar released, Ed stepped back and sent a flying kick across the man's face. He lay sprawled against the floor, unmoving.

"Well, he's going to be out for a while." Ed said. "We'll question him first when we stop this mess, alright?" He glanced back, looking for the acceptance of his brother.

"Uhh, yeah okay. First we need to find out what happened to the other cars here" he said.

Ed started forward, making sure to sidestep the unconscious man to get to the other car. He opened the door, sure of himself that there wouldn't be some weird plethora of things waiting for him. Boy, was he wrong.

"Nice to see you. Fullmetal." The woman that said this was right across the door from where Ed was standing, in front of the next door at the end of the car. Separating them was a large red puddle on the floor. Al instantly knew what it was.

"Brother, it's red water, you know the one you stepped on in the fifth la-"

"Shut up!" Ed hissed. While he sent an apologetic glance at his brother, he tilted his head towards the mysterious lady.

She laughed. "So you know what this is then. Great, at least it saves a couple of minutes explaining this to you."

"What do you want with this? It's dangerous enough breathing in it's fumes." Al asked.

"You're the one to talk, armor boy." She retorted. "It's not like you know what it's like breathing this in. And as for what we want," she smiled wolfishly, greed written plainly on her face. "We want your brother."

Ed and Al stepped backwards together. _How the hell could she have known about Al_ , Ed thought. _And why does this psycho want me?_

The woman glanced behind them, towards the arm that lay limply on the ground. She started to pout. "You took out Chello? Oh well, we can spare the minor setback."

The lady then crossed her hands behind her back and a small Click was heard. The wolfish smile appeared again. "Breaks." she said.

Al had only muttered "what?" before the whole train jarred again. Al, already conscious of the fact that Ed would be sent flying towards the red water, reached out only to grab a fistful of his red coat.

While he was saved from landing face first into the deadly substance, it didn't stop him from stepping into it.

"ED!" Al yelled. Rarely he used his own brother's name. The first time was when his whole being was pulled into truth. And now, Ed was going through the same thing he went through the night they went into the fifth Laboratory.

Ed never responded. He couldn't considering the fact that he was in a swirling vortex of blue electricity and pain.

He didn't try to move as the alchemical reaction of the red water swirled around him like wisps of blue flame. Ed was taking deep breathes, trying to suppress the never ending urge to scream, and his eyes were closed.

 _Don't freak out. Don't freak out_ , he thought. He vaguely heard Al calling him from behind, but it was hard to zone in on just his voice, since there were many sounds taking place. The rushing swirls, the alchemical reaction, the woman's laughter, and of course, Al's voice.

Just as he couldn't take the pain anymore, it stopped, suddenly, as if someone turned off the lights in the situation. There was no sound either, everything that had assaulted his ears had disappeared within a single second.

Ed felt an incredible emptiness inside himself. Almost like a void, or exactly like a void, and he couldn't help but sense the feeling that someone was watching him, amusingly, like a pet owner watching a small puppy run in circles.

For the first moment in a large stretch of time, Ed was afraid to open his eyes.

"Aren't you glad to see me again, _young_ alchemist?"

"Whether I'm glad or not, I don't know why I'm here." He responded, eyes still locked shut.

"Well that's a shame, considering that your friend, just dropped by to say 'hello.'" It was the chuckles which followed afterwards that forced Ed to open his eyes, and stare at the empty smile of Truth.


	2. Chapter 2

"Friend? What do you mean 'friend'?" Ed asked. He could understand that Truth may have been referring to Alphonse, but he was his brother. And Ed himself didn't apply that many people as his "friend."

"See for yourself." Truth replied, smiling sardonically. He pointed opposite to the Gate behind himself, and it opened. Instead of the thin black arms that raced to catch Ed, a girl was hurled out of the dark oblivion. She rolled on the ground for a second, before coming to a complete stop.

Ed couldn't form a single word. A girl. Just flew. Out of the Gate. Watching her silently, the girl struggled to stand up on her own. First she placed her palms on the floor, trying to push herself up. Then she sharply glanced up at the Gate facing her.

"What the hell was that!?" she yelled. She still forced herself up from the elaborate toss out of the Gate. She walked towards it, and placed her hands on it's dark marbley surface, just like Ed did when he demanded to be shown the Truth a second time.

"Why," she paused, sliding her right palm in a wide semi-circle around the Gate, "does this seem so familiar?" Ed continued watching as she hung her head, trying to figure out her own situation. He took the time to take in her appearance.

The girl had marvelous brown hair, which was tied up in a tight ponytail. She was slim for her age, as Ed decided she was about the same age as he was. Her clothing included a grey sweater that stopped by her abdomen with a black shirt. She was also wearing dark blue jeans that disappeared underneath the black combat boots that complimented her calves.

He snorted. The boots reminded him of someone he knew. A certain someone that always attempted to make himself taller. Apparently the sound he made was loud enough to reach the girl's ears, and she whipped around to face him.

Instead of focusing directly on him, she faced Truth, who was still grinning malisciouly, though he was showing less teeth than before.

"What the hell is this place anyway!?" she yelled at him. Only after she demanded her position, she saw the boy standing behind him. She blushed fiercely and took a deep breath inward. It's not every day you find a boy listening in to your self conversation.

Truth answered her. "Just as I have many names, so does this place. You could call it 'The Portal of Truth', or the 'Void'. 'Hell' or 'Purgatory' comes to mind as well, although it's your decision to think of a way to call it."

"The Portal? Of Truth?" she questioned. "Wait a minute." she paused again. "If this what you call 'Portal' then," she focused entirely on Ed, taking in his golden blonde hair, his height, the red coat and black pants, finally resting on his fiery golden eyes, eyes that were staring back at her in confusion. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hands, "Edward." she whispered.

While Ed remained confused about the girl's reaction, Truth let out a sharp, "HA!" and he leaned back, startled. Truth didn't laugh. Ever. "So you finally remember?" he continued. "Great, I didn't want to force myself and show you a second time. I _did_ show you what I could for the toll you paid."

She shook herself from her shock. "What toll?" she snapped back. "I didn't do that crazy alchemist bullshit that pops you here, so why am I even in front of you!?" She clasped her hands around her head, shaking as she fell to her knees. "I just want to go home." she whispered.

Ed decided to speak up, not to defend her, but to stop her from spouting ''alchemy bullshit'' a second time. "She's right. Why are we here Truth, and what are you planning?" he demanded. Anymore of this weirdly emotional girl and he was going to snap.

Truth in return turned his head 180 degrees to face Ed sideways. "You're here for the same reason she is, _young_ alchemist." Ed felt a deep shudder pass through his spinal cord. This was the third time Truth had called him that, and sarcastically to boot.

"It's the law of Equivalent Exchange. Is it not?" he questioned. Both doors began to open, and the long, thin arms began rushing towards the two teenagers. Ed yelled out to the girl, "Don't fight it! You'll just make it worse."

"What does it look like I'm doing Fullmetal!?" she yelled back, as they surrounded her like black lace. He stopped dead cold. In a matter of seconds, she started to sound like Mustang.

The charcoal colored arms lifted her up and towards the gate, but then it started rising slowly higher and higher until it reached three quarters up the gate.

"What the hell?" he whispered. Of all the things he expected to happen, this wasn't on his list.

The arms encircling the strange girl tilted back and covered her mouth. Ed could hear her muffled screaming from his side of the Gate, and watched in horror as the girl was tossed all the way to his side.

She flew in the air, screaming a string of colorful words all the way as she landed on the hard ground with a very hard _thud_ , flipping and rolling for longer than two seconds before she became still. Somehow in the mass chaos of the giant game of toss, her hairband was removed. Some her shoulder long brown hair hung limply around her neck, while most pooled around the floor. She lay still.

"Kid! Hey kid!" he yelled towards her. _What else am I supposed to call her. I don't even know her name._ he thought. She didn't respond for what seemed like an eternity, until she stirred with a soft moan. Then a swear. "Alright, your somewhat okay." he said.

"Just because she might be doesn't mean that you will." replied Truth. Ed felt that cold shudder again. How could he have forgotten that Truth was here, watching as everything unfolded? With a jerk Ed was lifted upwards, rising slowly until he reached the same spot the girl was positioned before she was launched. The arms tilted backwards, shot forward, and let Ed fly.

Two things were running through his mind.

1\. It was going to hurt. Badly.

2\. Just the automail alone would bring him down faster than the girl.

Flying through the air was the easy part. Landing, however, not so much. As he tried to prepare himself from landing on the ground, the long arms grabbed him again and landed him safely onto the floor. _What's really going on?_ Ed thought. _First they shoot her across the Gates and they land me like a package?_ All thoughts were ignored as the girl let out another swear, and attempted to get up.

She fell backward, landing on her butt. She shook her head, trying to clear the fuzziness away. She tried again, stumbling to her feet with wobbly knees. She smiled, scornful, painful, but absolutely pissed. "Alright," she snarled. "what was that for?"

The long, arms appeared again, wrapping her around her waist, arms locked behind her back. Truth gave another empty smile. "Why do you question me, when you already know what's going to happen. Don't you kitty?"

Her head snapped forward. "Don't you dare call me that." Fire inhabited her dark brown irises. Dangerous swirling flames dancing in the murky brown water. "Don't you _ever_ call me that." she said.

Ed noticed that they were both being pulled into each other's Gates, and he knew that she noticed the same thing. Ed into her's, and her into Ed's. They were entering the wrong portals. Before they were completely sucked into each others Gates, "Kitty" as she was called, let out one more yell. "My name is Sandra!" and the doors were closed behind them.

She was telling the truth. As he was being pulled into her Gate, he was rammed with her memories, skills, joys, anguishes, and character. One particular memory jumped out at him.

"Sandra, get back here!" said a girl. "No! I don't hafta." was the reply. "Get over here Kitty-oof." The view was then boosted up into a reflection, a girl with pigtails and missing front teeth popped into view. "I'm ten! You don't hafta call me 'Kitty' no more".

Another memory flashed by. And then another. And another. Ed's mind was bursting with information and sounds, constant flashes of color and images that contained many useful pieces of info.

 _Laughter_

 _Elise, come on, stop that!_

 _Hey you should try askin' him out sometime_

 _Shut up_

 _Elise come on we gotta,_

 _BANG_

 _Elise! Talk to me! come on don't do this to me! Mom! Mom!_

The images faded away, leaving Ed in darkness. The thin arms had disappeared, and he floated, suspended in the darkness.

 _It's starting to make sense, a bit at least._ he thought. _Kitty was a pet name for her, before Elise died anyway. But how? Gunshot wound? Accident?_ He swiveled around, trying to make sense of where he was.

"I gotta get out of here, but how?" he wondered out loud.

* * *

"Why isn't the little prick waking up godamnit!?" the colonel demanded. The doctor watched in fear as the raven haired man fisted his desk. His hung head low. Behind him was a blonde woman. Eyeing her physique would be a death wish all on it's own. The doctor could see she was a very trigger happy person.

"You guy's said you were the best in your proffession," the colonel said, voice dropping into a more lower and deadly tone. "And yet I see that you can't make _one_ child come to. Why is that the case?" he spat.

"Well uh, Fullmetal can't wake up mostly because he seems to be in a certain coma. If he wasn-"

"What do you mean _certain?_ " he interrupted. "Tell me _doctor_ Jethrem, how long do you intend to act like the sophisticated doctor you never were?" The colonel faced him, and for as long as he decided to live, even if the colonel was never a serious threat, those eyes would haunt him forever.

"W-we-well, mister Elric is drifting in and out of a c-c-coma, it is possible to happen but I-I don't believe that it will be l-long before he remains unconscious and not stuck in limbo." Jethrem stuttered.

The colonel snorted, and faced his subordinate. "Riza, don't you have a sudden feeling to shoot someone right now?" The blonde woman known as Riza cocked an eyebrow and replied with a curtly "Sir."

Jethrem felt a deep cold shudder pass through him. _Was that a yes or a no?_ he thought. _I can't let these two stay here, if they're going to do something._

"As much as you care for this young man, I have to ask for you to leave. N-n-nothing going to happen if you get angry here." I-I'll call if anything occurs."

Riza laid a hand on the colonel's shoulder. "He's right sir, we should go. Alphonse will be able to handle this."

The colonel pondered over the idea of leaving the hospital. He could leave this crappy hospital, but at the same time, he would leave his subordinate i _n_ the crappy hospital. Riza came to the same solution.

"Sir, I know you want to stay, but you're going to let your paper work pile up on your desk, and you know how I feel about that." she said, laying a hand against her pistol.

It was the colonel's turn to shudder. "Alright, Hawkeye. I'll go." He turned to Jethrem. "If there is as much as _one_ thing out of place in Fullmetal, there _will_ be a bonfire here. Understand?"

"Ye-yes sir!" Jethrem yelled. He could already smell the burning wood and hair from the future, he was going to do everything he could to prevent it.

"Good, then I'll take my leave." With that elegant remark, the colonel turned and strode out of the office, followed by his silent lieutenant.

* * *

"C'mon brother wake up." echoed a voice. Followed by the voice was a cacophony of metal clanking on the ground.

A suit of armor paced around the room, then sat in a vacant chair in front of the hospital bed. He stood up, and paced some more, keeping a watchful eye on the person that lay still on the mattress.

Ed lay still, one arm crossed over his stomach, chest rising and falling. He was a log. Usually he would sleep like a guilty man. Twists, turns, the occasional yell from an occurring nightmare, but Ed of all days lay on the bed like a fallen statue. Still. Silent.

It was like hell. Al could hear the colonel argue with the doctor in charge of caring for Edward. Jeffrey was it? Heck, it could have been Carl if anything but Al didn't listen. He was too concerned for his brother.

"Please brother, just wake up so colonel Mustang won't blow up this place." he pleaded quietly. He didn't want to hear this anymore. The silent breathing, the bumping objects in the doctor's office, and the raised voices.

The office door opened, and out stepped colonel Mustang, followed by Riza, and a very shaken up doctor. Al stared. When they had first walked inside the office, the doctor was the picture of confidence. Now, it just looked like it was blasted to the outer realms of space.

The doctor wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. "If anything happens, I-I-I'll let y-you know."

Riza raised a quizzical eyebrow and Mustang clicked his tongue. "I'm afraid you'll be at a loss for words for quite a while, so I hope Alphonse will be able to handle this?" he said, facing the boy in the suit of armor (That's what the quack believes).

"Yes sir." Al nodded. "You'll be the first to know if something happens." he mumbled.

The colonel nodded in return, and walked out of the room, Riza closely behind. As soon as she passed the doorway she turned, leaned forward, and closed the door. Doctor Jethrem released a big sigh, and relaxed his shoulders.

A small bleep was then heard. Jethrem went over to Ed's side and checked his vitals. Another sigh. "He's drifted out of the coma, but there is no telling if it may come back. Stay here, I may need to get another nurse to help me to take him off life support."

"So, brother is just asleep now?" Al asked hopefully. The doctor turned and watched Al's helmet for any signs of distinct trouble. He was met with an empty glance and peering red eyes shining down on him. Satisfied with his pokerface, the doctor replied, "Yes, you could say that."

Al released as sigh of relief and looked out the window. The afternoon sun crept through the blinds, and splashed the floor with small rays of light. He directed his attention to his brother. Although he was still unconscious, he appeared more at peace, and he breathed a little more audibley. He sighed again. "Now we just have to wait for him to wake up."

* * *

It was hard to concentrate when you're swimming in darkness and your head feels like it's going to explode. It's like you're a microwave oven filled to the brim with metal. Fireworks and very loud bangs are sure to appear.

 _How long have I been here?_ It could be months, although it felt like seconds, or just a couple of days, though it felt like years.

 _All right, let's add the events. Wake up. Breakfast. Cemetery. Complete hell on earth, and then... then what?_

Her head pounded as the faint sound of someone warning her drifted into her mind. _Don't fight it!_ More echoes, plus screaming. _Where did that voice come from? It sounds so familiar, but-_

She hissed in pain as more stabs were delivered to her head. She wanted to wake up, believe that it was a very, very bad dream. But it seemed so real.

 _It can't be real. It just a dream, like, wake up in 3,2...1 blink!_

Sandra's eye's fluttered open and closed. She stared at the ceiling, though the lights were off she could see the top remained white tiled and bleak. _Great, no random roof changing._ she thought.

She veered her head to the left and received a flash of blinding, disorienting, pain. When she could focus, she saw a simple door, closed. Softly, as to not hurt herself again, she turned to the right, and found a window. It was dark outside, and nothing could be heard through the glass frame.

"You're awake." echoed a voice. Sandra nearly pissed herself in fear. She sat up and stared at the foot of her bed before landing her head in her hands. The pain she felt now was more ten times more than what she felt when she woke up. "Shit." she cursed. Her voice came out scratchy, and she coughed. _Just how long was I out?_

"I'm sorry." the voice said again. He sounded awfully sweet, but sad at the same time. It sounded like... guilt. Did he do something he wasn't supposed to?

She looked up again, staring into the red eye's of a suit of armor. "It's alright." she squeaked. She paused, and lifted her left hand, touching her throat gently. _I sound a bit...off._

"Are you feeling okay?" the suit of armor asked. Sandra relaxed a bit, and stared at him. At least he sounded like a boy, young too. He didn't sound dangerous either, but then, why would he need to be completely encased in armor?

"Y-yeah." she said, before being slammed with another shot of pain to the head. She let out another hiss. "Shit. Nope, not okay." She said, swishing her head from side to side, relieved to know she could do that without hurting herself.

She stopped when she heard metal sliding against metal, like a lock. She set both her arms on her lap, and realized that one wasn't normal. Her right arm was completely made of silvery mechanical substance. Slowly, she could feel the panic rising in her throat, and she fought to supress it.

She closed her eyes and took several breaths, trying to regulate her heart rate. She re-opened her eyes, and was greeted by the same mechanical arm the replaced her right. She tried to lift it up in experimentation. I came up with ease like any other arm. She flexed the fingers, also mesmerized by the fact that they worked.

Even though they worked, a slight wheeze could be heard. She recognized it. A spring was misplaced inside, just like with her mother's car when her breaks needed a little tweaking.

A strand of hair fell from the side of her shoulder, and Sandra reached to push it back, but stopped when she glanced at it's color. In the dark her brown hair would look black, but she was staring at a dirty blonde color.

"Brother? Are you okay?" the boy asked. His voice was laced with worry, and he stood up.

"Is there a bathroom in here?" she whispered. Something was very out of place, and it was starting with her. The boy stopped and became silent, for those meager moments, she was glad that he couldn't see the terrified look on her face. He pointed to the door in the right, by the window. It dawned on her that the boy just said "brother'' and nothing else specifying that she was a girl.

"Thanks." Sandra said, voice quivering. She slid off the bed, first with her right leg, and then left. when her left leg made contact with the ground it also made the sound of metal sliding against metal. She tried to ignore it as she made her way to the bathroom.

Sandra flipped the switch, temporarily blinded by the flash of light. When her eyes got used to the difference in light, she walked her way to the mirror, as if in a trance. Nothing could prepare her for what she saw.

Her brown hair was replaced with golden blonde, with bangs surrounding the sides of her face. Her round head was swapped with one more oval shaped, graced with golden eyes, which stared at the mirror in horror. Her bust was flat and she could see metal and scars etched into the right shoulder. Instead of herself, she saw a boy. One she felt she recognized.

The boy in armor, walked in, since she left the door wide open. She stood there, facing him, shaking with tremendous shock.

"Brother? Ed? Is something wrong?" He knelt down in front of her, and looked directly in her eyes. "What's the matter, you look like you've seen a ghost."

Sandra looked down, and she could feel the edges of panic creeping in. She stopped for a minute, and closed her eyes. When she re-opened them, she could still feel the panic waiting to tip the balance of temporary sanity. She put the flesh hand on the shoulder of the other boy, and felt the cold texture of the metal. She swallowed, trying to destroy the lump that rose in her throat.

"Listen, you might not believe me, but." she stopped, fearing the worst.

"But what? Tell me." he said. He too was starting to become uneasy. He glanced behind himself, searching for an eavesdropper. Sure that there wasn't one, he turned back.

Sandra shook her head, and let out a chuckle. _Cautious. Just like Elise._ However her chuckle was hollow, and had no feeling. _Now or never_ she thought.

"I'm not Ed, okay?" She took a deep breath in, waiting for a response.

It was rather comical. She watched as the red irises were cut in half, and a sigh was heard from within. Then he stood up, revealing his full height, and simply walked out of the bathroom.

Despite the panic creeping into her system, she became greatly confused, and followed him to where she woke up. He sat back in his chair, and put one gauntleted hand over his face.

"What? Don't believe me?" she asked, walking towards him.

"Of course I don't, Brother. I know you." he tartly replied. Sandra frowned. _Well there goes the sweetness._

"Well let me finish. I-I don't know who you are. My name is Sandra, and I'm really not enjoying your attitude." she rambled. The boy in the armor continued to avert his gaze with his hand, then he looked up, and saw the genuine truth in her words.

"Say I don't believe you. What's my name?" he replied, leaning in close to see the reaction. _Ed would mostly always want to tell the blunt truth,_ he thought. _If he's lying he'd have a freakish and inhumane look._

Looking at the youthful face of his brother, "Sandra" as she called herself, looked completely blank, and judging by the posture, she didn't like to be in the spotlight, something completely different from Ed.

"I-I don't know." She paused and closed her eyes, trying to rack her brain for an answer. "I...I really don't know" she said, and crossed her- or rather Ed's- arms. He took in her appearance, she (if Ed wasn't playing a prank to lift his spirits) looked very insecure and dejected. He sighed.

"Okay. You're telling the truth. Well, first things first, my name is Alphonse. You can call me Al for short if you want to-uff." Sandra had pulled Al into a hug, and a close one too.

"Thanks." she whispered. "I don't think I could handle another person treating me like I'm insane." She continued hugging him and for a second Al believed that his brother Ed was actually hugging him. He returned the embrace.

"No problem." he said. He was fine with that moment until the last remnants of her words floated through his mind. _Another person. Insane._ "Another person?" he questioned, and immediately regretted it.

She forced her way out of the embrace, blushing fiercely, which Al could see in their close proximity. She turned and walked towards the hospital bed, rubbing her left hand on the back of her head.

The awkward moment was then dispersed with a clearing throat. They both glanced sharply to the right. A man was in between the doorway holding a bowl.

"Doctor Jethrem! How long were you standing there?" Al chuckled nervously.

"Just for a minute." he responded. He directed his attention from Al to Sandra, then back again. "Brotherly love is special, yes?" to which Al could see Sandra flinch. The doctor walked inside. "I got something for you to eat, considering you've been here for three days. I guess I'll have to get more for your brother." He held the bowl of food out to Al, who refused.

"No, it's all right. I'm not hungry, you can give it to Sa- uhh brother. He needs it more than I do." and gestured to Sandra. Doctor Jethrem walked over to her, who perched herself onto the bed. She grasped the bowl with both hands. Inside was a portion of rice, along with a side of stew. The aroma was tantalizing, and her stomach rumbled. She turned away, as to hide the embarrassment on her face. "Thanks" she murmured.

Alphonse quickly stood up. "Oh, now that you're up, I should tell colonel Mustang." he said. Jethrem began to tremble, and Sandra sent a questioning glance to Al. She had already gotten over the humiliation, and filled her mouth with some food, _and_ she had the manners of keeping it closed.

"I'll be right back." He said, walking out of the room. Jethrem too stood up to leave and said, "Well, I'm off. I need to get paperwork done." With a confused glance from Sandra, he continued, "I only took a small break to deliver this food. Made it myself."

Sandra swallowed. "It's good." She paused and looked at him more closely. His brown eyes looked devoid of any rest, and he had dark bags under his eye lids. His dark brown hair which bared close resemblance to her own, was messy and uncombed. His white work shirt was also wrinkled, signaling the long time he worked to ensure Ed's health. Sandra's heart went out for him. _He gave his all._ she thought. _Just to earn a girl stuck in a boy's body._

She glanced down at her bowl. She had mashed together the rice and stew, just the way she always did. She spooned some more into her mouth, and savored the seasonings in the stew, as well as the thick broth. She turned to Jethrem. "You're pretty cool for a doctor." she said, and smiled. Jethrem in return smiled brighter. "Well, have a good one, Edward." he said. "Call me if you need anything." He walked out the door, whistling.

Sandra lifted another spoonful. _Ed._ She stopped, and gingerly placed her spoon back into the bowl. _Ed. Edward?_ she thought. Sandra looked back to her appearance in the bathroom. Blonde hair, scars, gold eyes.

 _HA! So you finally remember?_ Flaring pain shot up Sandra's head, and she grabbed her head tightly, as she cried out. It felt like electricity, and it reverbrated in her skull, burning a path of pain and echoes. In a flash, she saw thin, tentacle-like arms darting from something, then the image vanished. Hot burning tears fell from her eyes. She shook her head. "Make it stop." she sobbed.

More flashes of pain sparked in her head. More echoes invaded her mind like unwanted visitors. "Please, make it stop." she said. The pain slowly started to fade away, leaving a web of confusion and fear.

She sat on the bed trembling slightly, and forcefully rubbed the tears away. Her heart was racing and her breath came out in explosive gasps. She stared at Edward's arms, she watched them as they shook lightly, following her (try to spell that damn word). The mechanical arm had small scratches and dents, which suggested long usage, and brawls.

Sandra set the bowl on the cabinet beside her, and she lay down, wincing as some of the pain pricked her in the head. _A metal arm. A suit of armor. Colonel?_ She sat up quickly.

"No way." she mumbled. "There's just no feakin' way." She pawed her fingers through the blonde hair, and ruffled it. "Edward Elric. Fullmetal." She lay down again, careful not to prod more pain into her head. She felt the small tugs of sleep, and she fell into their arms.

* * *

 **"** Operator, how may I help you?" said a clip voice, pristine, and non-chalant.

"Hi, uhh I would like to connect to Central Command. Colonel Mustang please, tell him it's Alphonse Elric." Al responded politely.

"Code please?" the lady said.

"Oh right. Uhh, Soap, Oval, Fluffy, Tender, followed by a 3,6, and 8." he said. While Ed and the other's had their codes in a notebook or something, Al made sure to memorize his by heart, just in case a few seconds were worth everything.

"Okay, I'm connecting you now, please wait a few minutes." the operator instructed.

Even though he couldn't see her, he nodded in agreement, and waited for Mustang to pick up the phone. He did't have to wait long.

"Alphonse?" Mustang answered. His voiced was thinly layered with confusion and concern, but it was evident. "Is everything alright?"

"You could put it that way colonel, but it's best if we came over to show you what happened." he chuckled. Al heard a sigh over the phone.

"Did Ed wake up and hurt someone?" Mustang asked.

"Yes and no. He's awake, but no-one's hurt. Well except for someone's pride." His last sentence came out strained, like the words were choking his very soul.

"Well, let's hope it's no too damaging to anyone's spirit." He developed a more curious tone. "Will Ed walk out of the hospital?"

 _Most likely. Since you need to see this._ he thought. "He might need to, since there's really not that much wrong with him. I mean, he would have serious lacerations to his body sometimes and _still_ walk out." he substituted.

Mustang didn't respond for a minute, and Al could hear him breathing through his side of the connection. When he spoke, he sounded defeated, but it was heavily laced with the sound of relief. "Alright, when will I see you two?" he asked.

"Most likely tomorrow, since they still need to make some tests and stuff." he answered.

"Very well. See you tomorrow." Mustang answered.

After more encouragement to keep in touch, Al began to walk back towards Ed's room. _How's he gonna react, when he finds out Ed switched bodies with a girl?_ he thought. He might be too shocked for words, or might cause chaos in the hospital.

After pondering thought over thought, he finally arrived to the appointed room Sandra was now staying in. He walked in. "Okay Sandra, Mustang is-" he stopped, and tilted his head, filling to the brim with glee.

Sandra had fallen asleep, and was facing the door with a face that radiated pure peace of mind. Her lips parted to make a small "o" and Al could see her arm rising and falling as she took in each breath.

By the bed was a small night stand, and on it was the bowl that Jethrem had given to her. He picked up the bowl and noticed that it was half full. Most decidedly not an Ed-like characteristic.

He placed the bowl back onto the night stand and sat back in his chair, desperately awaiting the oncoming morning.

* * *

 **Okay I did not plan for this chapter to end this way, but I felt like there was too much going into it, so I was forcefully forced to end this chap here. Ermahgerd Jethrem is such a softie, I swear (I think someone twisted Mustang's fanny cheeks pretty hard, for him to act like the way he did ((Don't tell him I said that. XD )).**

 **On another note! This is my very first fanfic I have written, and I enjoy it very much. I (for some reason) have to write my chapters at home, where I has no inter-web. I dunno it makes me feel more comfortable, and I write (type if you please) easier.**

 **Please share with anyone you think would enjoy this Fanfic and have a good one. (since I can't really predict when you read my stuff).**


	3. Chapter 3

_"Your reaction was priceless." Sandra said, putting on the scarlet coat with obvious curiosity. "But how will the others react?" she mused, similar to Al's thoughts the night before. "I'm afraid I'll have to stand in front of doctor Jethrem so Mustang won't light him on fire." she said._

 _She patted herself off, straightening the close-to-non-exsistent wrinkles in Ed's coat, tank-top, and pants._

 _"God," she said, in an un-Ed likely way. "Why does he have to wear leather pants? It's weird."_

 _Alphonse bit back a rising urge to laugh. At least she has a sense of taste. he thought. The urge to laugh died down as he watched her become flustered with the articles of clothing. She turned around, facing the bed._

 _"So this body switching thing. How're you handling it?" he asked._

 _Sandra stopped, and turned slowly towards Al again. "I don't know how to handle this." she answered carefully. "I know that I'm completely terrified though." she finished. She let out a small awkward chuckle and rubbed her head with her left hand, but even that rang with a little twinge of fear._

 _She looked down at her right arm, the one the nurses called automail. They had asked her if it felt alright, and she simply replied that it needed a little tuning. She flexed the fingers again, carefully listening to the all ever present wheeze of the misplaced spring._

Al replayed the events in his head, as they walked through the hallways towards Mustang's office. Much to Sandra's reluctance, she had to walk ahead, so no suspicion would be guided towards them. Sandra ignored as much people as possible while following Al's directions into the hallways. _Okay, left. Left again. Then right._

Finally in the seemingly unending hallways, She made sure to to slow down her steps in order to hear the comforting sound of clanking armor that represented Alphonse.

She continued walking at her slow pace until he caught up to her, the cool and collected demeanor changed and she latched onto his side, shoulders hunched, quick cautious glances darted from here to there.

Al continued from where he left off in his directions to Sandra. _When we get to the hallways I want you to follow me closely._ Al wanted to put a reassuring arm over her, give her a sense of protection, but even if one person saw the duo this way, it would ring major alarm bells.

"You might want to let go of me." he said. "Someone's going to get really confused if they see you like this."

"See you like what?" someone asked. Al froze up and Sandra looked like a complete deer in headlights. Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks were completely flushed. She closed her eyes, breathing in deeply, lips set in a determined thin line. She opened her eyes again, flashing the same familiar fire in those golden irises. _Game time._ She turned around to face a soldier she obviously didn't know. With a quick glance to Al, he shrugged, clearing the path that this man was a complete stranger.

He had a nice angular face, and blue eyes, dark and clear as sapphire. His dirty blonde hair was neatly combed, but in a way that made it appear messy. His posture was stiff, and uncomfortable, hands crossed neatly behind his back. Sandra judged by his appearance that he could be easily fooled.

"I heard a couple rumors that someone was trying to prank me, when I got here." she lied. She made sure to keep a rather mishievious smirk on her face. The man flashed a smile, but it was empty, with a curious expression flitting through his eyes, then it was gone. Was it...regret?

 _Wait was this actually going to happen?_ she thought. She checked her surroundings looing for a tale-tell sign. There. By the corner, was a small garbage can. Inside were shiny colored materials. They looked just like,

She pursed her lip, weighing her chances, and decided to play poker-face.

"I dunno. It could've been some rumor just to get to me, but I did hear that fluids were involved, and I can't get my automail wet." She placed one hand on her right shoulder and rotated the arm. Al decided to play in on the game, and nodded slowly. "Someone would get really mad." he said ominously. The man paled, his eyes darted from place to place.

Sandra narrowed her own eyes, the fire creating sparks of mischief. _Bingo. But one man..._ She looked around again, careful to notice any signs of acomplices. She lingered by one wall behind the soldier. Right where the floor met the wall, there were a pair of shoes, but the heel appeared to be missing. Paint, maybe?

"Careful sir, you've almost succeeded in adapting to the color of the walls." she said, with a devilish smirk. The man blanched even further, his eyes dancing the flight of panic.

Sandra nudged Alphonse and put the icing on the cake. "How long do you think it would take," she asked to no-one in particular, "to completely disappear into a wall?'' Her words seem to echo off each and every corner in what suddenly became a labyrinth. The man took a step back, and another.

He was looking into the eyes of a monster. This was child's play to the Fullmetal Alchemist, and he underestimated the boy _way_ too much. Why did he even take this task on in the first place? He turned his heels and ran, calling out, "Abort mission! Abort mission! God damn it, the kid's onto us! RUN!"

A mass pandomonium ensued. Two to three soldiers peeled themselves off the white walls in three different corners, covered head to toe in the milky colored paint. They all ran, following the same direction as the man they had spoken to. One soldier had even dragged the can full of water balloons. Tripping over his own feet, the soldier fell into his own weapons, splattering water and different colors everywhere.

Alphonse and Sandra were barely able to help themselves from falling because of the force of laughter. They both kneeled on the floor, supporting each other from actually laying on the floorboards. The echoing laughter reached the man they had met, and he swore that the young alchemist was Satan himself.

* * *

Mustang tapped on his desk for the past _five_ minutes already, and he wasn't stopping anytime soon. He kept tapping even when his subordinates took a few seconds off to look at him, or next to him for that matter. He was just so _pissed._

One of his subordinates, blonde haired and smoke addict, continued to stare head on at the colonel. He caught his eyes momentarily, but he shifted his gaze for a split second to his side. He then directed his attention to jug of water sitting idley on his desk. Mustang continued tapping his desk with his fingers.

 _Tap. Tap. Tap. Click._

 _Shit._ he thought. _How did I let myself forget about her?_ The fear that Mustang could feel was in-expressible through words. His most reliable subordinate, his First lieutenant, his sniper. A sexy, dangerous woman, especially when angry.

"Instead of wasting time creating your personal drum beat," she said. "I advise you to finish the paperwork you've failed to complete yesterday." She laid her pistol on the desk near her. A very misleading action if percieved by the wrong person. Everyone in the room knew that picking up the gun would mean half a second, and that could be a fatal flaw for someone who didn't know Riza Hawkeye.

Mustang remained quiet, but his tapping had ceased. He sighed, "It's not _my_ fault Fullmetal has me foaming at the mouth with his charades." He wearily cast his eyes towards the paperwork he was supposed to finish. It was about hands width, palm up. It didn't seem like much, but paperwork had a reputation of appearing in greater numbers when you finished the first batch.

"You should be able to remember that _you_ put him to the task, Sir." she replied. Mustang flinched. She was right, in a way. Mustang had called Edward in because he had heard rumors about Scar in Ed's vicinity. The small town of Villian was very prominent with the promise of literature. Naturally, Ed and Al were drawn to it like bees to pollen, but if there was a present danger, no chances would be taken. They were ordered to take a train straight to Central, just for them to land in the hospital.

He sighed again and grabbed a sheet of paper, slapping it onto the space in front of him. Attached to the page was the profile of a transfer.

Second lieutenant Zede Marnoff was to be transfered to Central because of disorderly conduct. The instructions stated in the paperwork included court-martialing the soldier if he committed any other misdemeaning acts.

Mustang sat up straight. Marnoff. That miserable slob of a soldier was one of his classmates in high school. He was known to be a complete failure in academics and social life.

At one point of time a rumor leaked out that he had been dumped by _five_ different girls. The reason for the break-ups were simple. Abusive relationships. His girlfriend at the time when the rumor spread, bore a black eye, which was questionable as to how she got it.

When asked, she would stammer and reply that she was injured from a fight with another student, but her defense was treated as neon light. Bright and clear, but still artificial. They too had split ways. Not long after that, he was shipped off to the military academy, and forgotten.

Mustang sat up even straighter, which grabbed the attention of his subordinates. He switched his attention from the profile to the the designated area he was supposed to sign. Back and forth, back and forth. Did he really want this type of man in his sights? He knew as soon as Marnoff saw him, he would be recognized.

 _Keep your friends close,_ he thought. _And your enemies closer._ He sighed and signed the paper. He placed it next to him. _Besides, if he starts acting up, I have Riza or Fullmetal at my disposal._

He reached for another paper, and heard a high amount of chaos beyond his office door. He smirked. _Ed. Causing mass destruction as usual._ Someone was yelling and a large amount of running was involved. Mustang careened his ears to try and locate the familiar sounds of clapping and the sparks of transmutation. None was given. Instead laughter was heard, one echoed and youthful presented Alphonse. The other, uncontrollable and care free was apparently Edward.

Mustang became gravely confused. Ed's laughter usually consisted of scorn (well, when he was present), but this time it was evidently missing. The laughter began to subside until it was enveloped with silence and the thump of footsteps. They stopped right at the door. Whispers were heared, and eyebrows were raised.

Alphonse opened the door, and walked in. "Good morning Colonel." he said. The young alchemist did not enter at all, which was shocking considering the fact that he would barge in like he owned the place. _Strange._ thought Mustang.

"Where's-" he started. If anyone knew Fullmetal, it was Al.

"Right behind me." he interrupted. He glanced behind himself, and muttered, "Oh come on." He turned and left the office. Mustang and the others leaned as much as they could to see what was happening outside. Nonetheless, they were only given audio.

"Get in." they heard. A response was quick and swift. "No. I-", a slight pause, "I don't want to." Mustang and the others were greeted with the sound of shifting metal. "You're gonna have to, one way or another."

Mustang was now dumbstruck. Was Alphonse being extremely gentle with his brother? Ed was acting a bit, strange, granted, but that didn't include the need to be spoken to softly.

"Well, you're going to have to shove me in." Ed answered. The gang relaxed, this was the snarky attitude they were accustomed to hear. Another shift of metal. "Fine with me." Al said.

 _What?_ Mustang thought. Apparently, the little fiery pipsqueak thought the same thing. "Wait, I wasn't-AH!"

Abruptly, Ed was (true to words) shoved inside the office. He stumbled on his feet for a solid second, then stood straight up, sharply glancing around awkwardly, clenching and un-clenching his hands. He closed his eyes, and the slightly rosy hue that lingered on his cheeks formed into a furious red. He hunched his shoulders, and held his breath.

"Al?" he choked out. Alphonse, who closed the door, and blocked it with his entire frame, shifted his gaze towards his older brother. "Yes?"

"I'm going to kill you." His threat rang hollow, but it still had a presiding feel of anger. To Alphonse it apparently didn't matter. "I'll keep that in mind." he said, a hint of mirth seasoning his words. He turned around to lock the door. His fingers brushed the handle.

"I'm not gonna try to run out of the damn office, Al. I feel safer here than in the hallways." Ed said. Mustang and everyone else raised eyebrows. Ed was very known among them for keeping his feelings to himself. And here he was, displaying them for all to see. Fuery and Falman exchanged glances.

Al released the door handle, and turned to Mustang. "There's a valid reason for all of this colonel." he said, casually answering his internal questions. Ed in turn, blushed even redder, and forcefully released the pent up air he contained. He spoke quickly, "I'm not telling him." he said. Al took a step foward. "But you told me! Why not them?" he asked.

Ed lashed out a heated response. "You're one person okay!? Plus when I told you, you just walked out on me." Al flinched, wounded by his words.

Mustang's attention was brought over to Havoc, who nudged Breda. "Pass the popcorn." he whispered. Mustang glared at the both of them. _One more crack, and you're toast._ his eyes said. They got the message and remained silent, squirming under his stare. He shifted his gaze to the brothers.

"Just what is going on?" he asked. Alphonse looked at Ed, only to find him turned away, arms crossed, defiant pout on his face. No help was going to be given from him today. Al sighed. _This better not be some girl crush thing._ Mustang wondered. He decided to take a shot.

"Is this about a girl Alphonse?" he said facing the tall suit of armor. The question caught him off guard, and he began to stammer.

"What? No! No, I mean yes. Wait, no. I mea- ughh!" he growled iritatingly. Words seem to evade the young boy in a way which made him appear hopeless with his own sentences. He looked over to Fullmetal, who gazed at the colonel in shock and muttered, "How-?"

Havoc whooped. "It's about time his testosterone levels kicked in." he said. Breda joined in, relishing the idea of teasing the little teenager.

"It's probably that girl of yours, Winry right?" he snorted. Ed tried to protest the wall of embarrassment crashing in on him. "What!? No, holy shit, guys stop." His cheeks flamed bright red a second time. Mustang took the opportunity to jab at him.

"It's no surprise, she was technically your child-hood sweet heart." The others roared with laughter, while Riza stood behind, displeasure evident on her face. She said nothing. Ed covered his face with his hands and hunched his shoulders. No sound escaped his lips.

"I hardly think this is necessary." Fuery said timidly.

"Guy's stop, it's not funny." Al said. His plea was drowned out by the wave of laughter, and they continued with the embarrassing talk.

"C'mon chief, ask her out." Havoc said.

"You're not gonna get a second chance if someone else does it." Breda followed. More laughter followed his words, enveloping Al with a sense of concern. Any other day would have been fine, and the embarrassment would have blown over, but today was not one of those days. Al heard a whisper.

"I'm not Ed." This simple sentence was also drowned out by their laughter. Mustang watched through jovial tears as his subordinate began to tremble a little. The laughter continued to resonate through the office and it drilled itself into his head. He slammed his foot down, like an impatiant child.

"I'M NOT ED GOD DAMN IT!" he yelled. Everyone stopped, and Al could see that even Riza had not expected this type of outburst. Her eyes widened a bit, and they retained that form.

"Can you get that through your thick skull at least!?" he continued to yell. He stopped abruptly, breathing hard. Short coughs came from him as he dealt with the raspiness of the earlier outburst. Disbelief was evident on everyones face

Mustang nervously chuckled. "What do you mea-" he started. He wasn't able to finish, as the young teen pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a deep breath.

"Ed and I," a pause, "switched bodies. You're not talking to Edward." He looked up at the colonel with an irritated glare. Mustang in return peered at his eyes, searching, and he found what he was looking for.

"Nice try Ed, but you shouldn't prank people when your mad." he chuckled again, hoping to break the courage in his plans. Not today.

"Let me tell you why that's bullshit, dumbass." the boy retorted. He spoke like Ed and sounded _a lot_ like him too, with the wealth of swear words he had, but Mustang couldn't help but feel that this was actually...the _truth._ It was just the way he sounded, angry of course, but he sounded, hurt, damaged.

"Why the hell would someone prank you when they just came out of the hospital?" he said. He received no answer, just a blank, shocked stare. Leaving that question with the colonel, he rounded on Havoc. "Next time, let a kid explain their situations." he scolded.

Breda, clear of reprimanding, began to chuckle at their short-comings (Get it? Eh? :D). Neither he was spared in the attack. "Wipe that stupid grin off your damn face. Don't act like you didn't say anything." I'm-not-Ed said.

Breda quieted down and remained poker-faced. Mustang was shocked. In any other situation, Ed would lose his cool and storm out of the office, and bury himself with books or anything else to get his mind off the total embarrassment. But, now, he was holding his ground and actually put the _adults_ to shame. With the exception of Riza of course. That wouldn't be possible unless the young alchemist matured, or-.

Mustang couldn't let himself believe this, this nonsense. It was impossible for crying out loud! Who ever heard of a body switch (The entire fandom may raise their hands.)? However, it seemed so real, like a genuine crystal. It _is_ there, but questions still arise.

"How do you propose this happened?" he said. If this was a sick prank made especially by Ed, things will _burn_. The child in Ed's body blanked, the frustration and anger wiped away, leaving a mask of confusion.

"I don't...know." he said (At this point wet match still thinks there's a guy in front of him.).

Breda reached over and and tilted the jug of water into a clear glass. he filled it halfway, and set the jug down. "Let's start with the basics at least. What's your name? Age?" He tilted his glass for a sip.

 _No games, right?_ Mustang thought. The child answered with a sigh. "My name is Sandra Lawrence. I'm sixteen." Breda choked on his glass of water. He sputtered, coughing into his fist, trying to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling in his throat, while Fuery patted his back. He slammed the glass down.

"You're a girl!?" he yelled, eyes wide. Havoc's mouth gaped open like a fish, as if he forgot to breathe. Falman stared with the usual shocked look on his face and Mustang shielded his humiliation with his hand, and bent over his desk with a groan, forehead almost touching the mahogany desk. His question was right on the money, but he had the wrong idea. He practically insulted a girl, right in his office!

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." he said, still facing the desk. This had to be the most _dumbest_ mistake he had made. Good thing Ed wasn't here. Mustang flinched. It was his fault this happened. Apparently Sandra didn't think so.

"Don't beat yourself over it." she said. Mustang shot up. In Ed's voice, it was just, insane. It didn't sound normal. Probably because he was so used to hearing Ed sound so snarky and matter-of-fact, not sincere and soft. She turned to Breda.

"What's wrong with that?" she said, as if she didn't just comfort someone. Her eyes were widened with childish innocence, as well as a curious hint. Breda began to melt under her stare. "N-nothing's wrong with that! It's just,-"

"You didn't expect a girl. Alright, I get it." she interrupted. Breda closed his mouth, determined not to speak in the girl's presence. Sandra turned away, facing the floor. She bit her lip, thinking. She also jammed her fists into Ed's pockets, looking all too similar to Ed himself. She looked up.

"Do we have any paper?" she said. Mustang began rustling through his desk drawers, mumbling about seeing if he had any. He opened one drawer, and handed a few blank sheets to Sandra, along with pens. She took them with a quick, "thanks," and handed one to Al.

"Alright, you write down everything you remember up until he became unconscious, and I write down what I remember." Al took the sheet and pen, quickly scribbling down everything he had seen. Sandra took her own, laying down the sheet on the coffee table by the couch. She had only written down a few words until Havoc finally spoke up.

"You're using your left." he said. Sandra glanced down, looking at the small black pen lodged snugly in her left hand. She looked up again. "I've always used my left. I'm naturally left-handed." she responded.

"Has anyone made fun of you for that?" he asked. Sandra's eyes widened. She opened her mouth, but it quickly closed. A light blush emerged and she turned her head away. "No-one's ever asked me that." she whispered. She sat silent, twirling the pen in her fingers. She then shook her head and continued writing.

"Does it even matter?" she said, scribbling data, here and there. Glances went around the room and Fuery stepped forward, sitting down a space away from her. "Do you want to talk about it?" he said. Sandra continued writing, and Mustang thought that she was going to ignore him.

Her writing slowed down, then stopped all together, hand still poised over the sheet. Al watched intently, his hand also hovering above his own page. Sandra continued staring at the page with a blank face, then she chuckled sadly, one corner of her mouth tilting upwards. She set the pen down and looked at Feury with searching eyes.

"Can we do that later?" she said. Fuery smiled widely which surprised Sandra and the others a bit. Her sad smile was replaced with a confused and wide eyed look.

"Sure!" Fuery said. He patted Sandra on the back (which surprised her even more) and got up, walking to his chair. He turned around and faced her, and continued smiling. Sandra continued to stare in surprise.

"Don't you have work to do, Sandra?" Mustang asked, breaking the ice. Sandra blinked and turned towards Mustang. From their angle, Fuery, Breda, Falman, and Havoc weren't able to see her roll her eyes. "That's funny coming from you." she said. Sandra pointed towards the stack of paper work on his desk.

"Don't _you_ have work to do, Colonel?" and she smiled, when she heard the whooping laughter of everyone else, including Riza's light chuckle.

* * *

 **Alright guys. Ed will be in the next chapter as well as a few other characters I'm planning to have. Let me know what you think about Jethrem, and please don't ask me where "Zede Marnoff" came from. That's a story I want to tell my grand kids (enter sarcasm. Don't kill me).**

 **Other notes: I am having a** _ **hugely**_ **sized problem with summer school, my nephew and all the other things that makes my rich, chunky stew of bull-**

 **Beba- Yo! Keep it P.G. (Nickname for little sis)**

 **Meh. Okay, so far summer school is treated me very nicely, except the fact that I have to wake up early at 7:30am. I has no internet at home, keep that in mind, so I'll have issues uploading my chaps in time.**

 **One of my teachers was my eighth grade teacher, and when I told her that I was making this story, she lent me this book that she said would help me. The title's "If I Must Die Before I Wake" or something , I read it, I couldn't even with the feels, I told her about it, she let me keep it. So now, I have a book that is friggin' amazing, and it really ties in with what I'm doing, so hopefully I can use this to my advantage.**

 **If you're wondering, like Sandra, I'm 16, and my adorable nephew is 2 months, 3 weeks, but who's counting?**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

_There are times when you mess up, and times when you mess up so severely, you don't even know what's going on. Like waking up from a nap and not knowing what the time is, or confusing someone's mother for your own. In either cases, you tense up, talk to make things worse, or just get on with it._

* * *

 _Ed had a splitting headache. He felt like a door mat that had been trampled on for years, beaten, and left to hang on a clothes line. Basically he felt like shit._

 _Ed knew that he had drifted away from unconsciousness and was just laying in bed, but he refused to open his eyes for the second time. He could tell that he was in the hospital with all it's damned hums and blips, but it didn't smell like one._

 _He took slow long breath in, and released the air. No disenfectant, no lingering smell of death or sickness. This can't be a hospital, Ed thought. There's just no way this is a hospital._

 _Ed groaned. If I'm in someone's house Mustang's never gonna let me live this down. he thought. His groan brought the attention of someone in the room. The person ran to his side and felt his forehead. The hand was cool to the touch, and he secretly enjoyed the soft hand that was feeling his forehead, savored the soft touch that wiped his sweat away._

 _"Are you awake, sweety?" said a voice. It was a woman, and she sounded very sincere. None the less, he frowned. Sweety? The hell did this woman think she is? He felt like snapping his eyes open and telling her off about the child-talk, but an automatic response came out instead._

 _"No, I'm still unconscious. Please leave." Ed snapped his head to the left, and widened his eyes, shocked at his own answer. He tried to focus on something, anything, but everything was blurry and smudged, and for some reason, cream. The lady laughed, and Ed shifted his gaze towards her. Two sets of eyes stared back at him, and he recognized the mop of brown hair, chesnut colored. It...it couldn't be._

 _"Mom?" he whispered, his voice scratchy for the length of time it was unused. The lady leaned forward, and into focus. Slowly everything started to become clear, the two sets of eyes merged into one, and the lady that stood before him was a stranger. He felt his cheeks heat up, mistakening this woman for his own mother. Wait 'till Mustang hears THIS. he thought._

 _"I'm right here honey." she said. Ed's eyes widened to the size of baseballs. What. The living. Hell. What's going on? he thought. Let's start with simple, he told himself._

 _"Where am I?" he asked. Please not a home, please not a home. he begged in his mind. The lady dead-panned, "Well, I would like to think this is a hospital, right?"_

 _Despite the confusing answers and weird acceptances of mother's, Ed had to laugh, and send a searing pain through his skull. His hiss alone sounded inhuman, but he was sure that his grimace was even worse._

 _Swirling pain flashed everywhere, behind his eyes, in the back of his skull, and even down the length of his neck. The woman placed her hands on his shoulders,which was difficult since Ed was cradling his head tightly._

 _"Honey, what's wrong?" she said, panic creeping into her voice. Ed could only hear her voice as if it were a mile away. He gasped. If he had never attempted human transmutation, he would say this was the most painful feeling he ever had._

 _His eyes shot open, and he stared down at his feet, immediately closing them again. I have both legs!? he thought. What happened to my automail!? he continued thinking. He was slammed with another wave of pain, and he could begin to feel the lulls of darkness pulling him. He slumped forward, into the arms of the woman._

 _"Sandra! Sandra talk to me!" she propped him onto his previous position on the bed, and she ran out, calling for a doctor. Ed fought to stay awake, to find answers, but the pull was too strong and he drifted farther and farther away from the cream colored room and into darkness, with one thing lingering on his mind. Sandra, Sandra._

Ed woke with a start, breathing deeply. He looked around for the same woman he had seen, but she was gone. He was alone, in the room, facing one vacant chair in front of his bed. A chair he would rather have someone sit in.

He threw off the covers and searched his room for a bathroom, all the while feeling the cold floor with _both_ legs. Satisfied there was one, he couldn't decide whether or not to piss himself, or check his reflection. He decided to do the latter.

He peered inside the silvery mirror, glad that he didn't have to stretch his toes to see it. He stared at his reflection for what seemed like hours until he actually started to pay attention to the body details. The same brown hair he saw at the gate was loose, and draped casually on his-or rather her-neck. It was silky to the touch.

The same round face, with large, seemingly innocent brown eyes, darting here and there, drinking in the appearance of the teenage girl's body he was inhabiting. Her body was also graced with scars, though not as much as he had.

One thin, silvery scar ran down from behind her right nostril, down to her upper lip, but it was faded, barely noticeable. Another was slammed dead center on her forehead, also faded, but still noticeable. It was a small crater, in the shape of a diamond. That surely would have given rise to a few taunts.

He raised both arms and studied the scars that were etched into the skin as well. He was glad to see that they weren't the scars of self harm, just scratches and cuts that had been left untreated. He rested his gaze on the right arm.

It barely had a scar except for one in the shape of a lynx, but Ed couldn't get over the fact that it was, well, _flesh_. He had been so used to automail, he practically forgot how it felt to feel with his (previously) dominant hand. He ran the length of the right arm, with his left, and shivered with the tickley sensation.

"Wow." he muttered. He stared down at his feet, and noticed a _huge_ disfiguring scar on the right foot, in the shape of, a foot? He knelt down and felt the patch of mottled skin. It wasn't like the other scars which were either cuts or scratches, her flesh had been burned off, and whether it was treated or not the damage was permanent.

 _She had to carry this for years._ he thought, _and she had to deal with knowing this. Just what happened?_ he wondered.

He didn't notice these features when they were in the portal together, well, they had been separated a couple hundred feet apart, but close up, you could see that this girl had a slice of her own crap to handle.

He shook his head, feeling the long tresses of brown hair slide away from his neck. He sighed. He felt so calm for some reason, as if he was just doing a day to day errand. He walked out of the bathroom and made his way back towards his bed, taking in the soft cream color that layered the room.

 _No white, no smell of disinfectant, just what the hell is going on?_ he thought. He sat on the bed, smoothing the hospital gown down the waist. He bit his lip and glanced down, struggling to find an answer for the body switch, when a lady walked in. She smiled and spoke bubbly, like she was in some type of summer home.

"Well look who's up!" she said with a large toothy grin. "How you feelin'?" she continued. Ed forgot to answer her and stammered, "Umm, fine I guess. I just went to use the bathroom." he said. He blushed. _That came out wrong damn it._ he thought. The nurse nodded.

"I suppose that's normal, you were here for at least three days." Ed's eye's widened. _Three days!?_ he thought.

"H-how-" he started. The nurse walked foward and turned Ed's head, examining the back. "You took a pretty nasty fall, and you were technically electrocuted." she explained. "I'm surprised you're even alive." she finished.

Ed remained silent. _I could've died?_ he thought. An overbearing sense of sadness came over him and he drew his knees together and hugged them close. Why did he feel so upset?

The nurse eyed him suspiciously, warm smile disappearing altogether. "Careful," she said, "you don't want to constrict your breathing." In response, Ed loosened up a bit. She was right, by hugging his legs, breathing became harder by a milestone. He took a deep breath, enjoying the missing scent of disinfectant. Waves of calm set in, and the sadness started to fade. He turned towards the nurse.

"Got anything to eat?" he asked. The nurse began to laugh, the sound musical and light, and Ed felt at ease. _It's her voice, her happiness. She uses it to make patients more comfortable._ he realized. The nurse walked towards a large cart he had never noticed before, and she pulled out a tray with a sandwich, a fruit cup, and some orange juice. She held it out to him.

He grasped the tray with both hands, thankful that there wasn't any milk. The nurse started to walk away with the cart, and Ed's eyes followed her like a curious feline. She walked out of the room, saying, "I was just supposed to hand you something for you to eat in case you woke up." She walked away, disappearing from his sight.

Ed continued to gaze at the doorway where the nurse had walked out. He shook his head, trying to get his mind on his food. He gingerly lifted the sandwich to his mouth and took a small bite, minding the queasy feeling in his stomach. He chewed his morsel slowly and quickly discerned it was, in fact, a standard ham and cheese.

He lifted to take another bite when he heard a small ring emanate from the small table by his bed. He leaned over to look at a small looking box that glowed with a light that only seemed to could only logically come from a light bulb. The small box had written words on it, but they were too small to read from his distance. He picked up the small box, and read the message.

 _Mike: Heard you woke up earlier. What happened?_

Ed turned the box over on it's side, looking for a way to write a reply, but he couldn't find anything. He tilted the box downwards so he could see the top. A thin button was in the corner, and Ed pressed it. Instantly, the glow that came from the box shut down, leaving the long side of the box with just black glass.

He pressed the button a second time, and the box glowed again. He poked the glowing side, not sure what to do with it. The image on the box moved, and a small oval-shaped sign instructed Ed to swipe his finger across the "screen."

Ed obliged, swiping his left hand finger across the screen, and the image slided, then shrunk, and was replaced with a different image. In the background, Ed could see two girl's, one shorter than the other, and one arm draped over another. One, he recognized as Sandra, the other, he remembered as Elise. He stared at the picture for a minute wondering about the condition of Elise, when another ring came from the box. Another message was sent, but it was at the top of the box this time.

 _Mike: You up? Can you answer your cellphone?_

Ed frowned at the screen. _The hell is this guy's problem?_ he thought. It was just words, so he couldn't tell if "Mike" meant it in a concerned way or he was just being cocky. Not knowing what to do, he tapped on the little message at the top, and a black drape covered the screen. In rows, there were messages about updates and other things he didn't know, but the message was scrawled on the screen, above the others.

He tapped it, and the black drape shrunk like the image with the instructions, and it was replaced by another image with a grey background, the messages formed in little green and silver bubbles. Another oval-shaped sign instructed him to reply. He tapped on the oval, and another image slid up, containing letters and numbers.

He tapped a letter, and it assumed it's place in the oval. He experimented with the buttons, making sure not to press the ''send'' button, until he pressed a small button that bared a small ''X'' on it, which erased a letter from the screen. He held the button, watching all the letters disappear. He slowly tapped each precise letter he wanted to form his message.

 _Bubbs: How do you know about that?_ he sent. He flipped the "cellphone" as Mike called it, still confused about it's primary function. So far, he only knew it to send messages. Another ring pinged from the cellphone, and a silver bubble popped up.

 _Mike: Well, I was on my way to the cemetery, like you told me to, and when I got there, you...you were standing in the middle of something. It looked like you came straight out of a horror movie. Your mom told me you were out for three days until you woke up last night._

Ed became confused. He could care less about the horror part, but what was going on with Sandra? He tapped back a quicker reply.

 _Bubbs: What happened?_

Ed was hoping that Mike would respond quickly with an explanation so he could get answers, but he didn't get one.

 _Mike: You don't remember?_

Ed tried not to snort. Of course not he didn't remember, he just didn't _understand_ what he was saying. He tapped even faster, listening to the little popping sounds as he tapped each letter.

 _Bubbs: I don't have a solid idea as to what you're saying._

Ed waited. And waited, and waited, but Mike didn't reply. Ed began to feel that he had just ripped out someone's world from under their feet, and as much as he constantly did that, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. A bubble popped onto the screen.

 _Mike: Holy hell._

 _Mike: You were standing in this gaint puddle. It was...red. Like blood, but it didn't flow like a liquid. It was like, jello, in a way. And you were surrounded by blue electricity._

 _Mike: You honestly don't remember?_

Ed read and re-read the second message over and over again. The same liquid he had stumbled into, the same liquid that had almost killed him, it was the same liquid _she_ stepped in. He could barely breathe, and his breath came out in shallow gasps. _Red water,_ he thought. _It's red water._

* * *

Sandra placed her paper next to Alphonse's, and she examined them closely, marking each paper with a line. She stopped, and brought both papers closer together, and she circled one thing from each page.

She stood back, as if she could see the answer from a further distance. "It's red water." she said. The others glanced up from their own work, and Al leaned forward. Mustang exchanged glances with Riza, who was beside him, no longer behind. "Come again?" he asked.

Al turned towards Mustang. "Red water." he said. "It's like a run down version of the philosopher's stone, only it's-" he was cut off, by the sharp intake of air from Sandra, who also let out a sharp cry of pain. She fell to her knees, holding her head tightly. Her breathing was labored.

Alphonse quickly kneeled in front of Sandra, while placing a large hand on her back. The other's rushed forward, but were directed away by Al, who said, "No, we have to give her space."

Mustang glanced towards Riza who had backed away considerably. Her face was masked well, but years of experience pinpointed the stress lines of agony over Sandra's pain. Riza knew what she was doing, but it still hurt her.

"Mustang, help me with Sandra." Al said. Mustang walked forward cautiously and took his place by the young teenager.

It sounded horrible. In between the faltered breathing and pained gasps, Sandra made another sound that made her seem inhuman. It came short of a cat screetch. Mustang lightly put his hand on her back, and rubbed it in a small circular motion. Sandra couldn't feel it. She forced out, "I hear voices." and then a gurgled groan. "Whispers." she said. She took a deep breath in as she tried to control her pain. Hot tears rolled down from her eyes.

"Who's voice can you hear?" Mustang asked. Sandra struggled for an answer and her back arched, taking the form of a possessed child. "I...I can't," she started, but a horrendous, blood-curdling scream was ripped out from her throat, and Al began to tremble.

"It's sounds like that night." he whispered. Mustang sharply guided his attention from Sandra to Al. "What?" he said. Before Al could even answer, Sandra gurgled another painful sentence.

"It hurts." she whispered, and she grasped the long golden blond hair into bunched fists, shuddering as the pain washed through her head. "Al," she choked out desperately. Alphonse leaned closer to her, straining to listen to her words. A heart-wrenching sob escaped her lips.

"Help." she whimpered, and fell forward. She landed in Mustang's and Al's arms, while her own trailed limply against the floor. Her breathing was slightly less ragged than before, but still faltered. Al scooped up Sandra in his arms, her head lolled to the side and knocked gently against his armor. He gingerly set her on the couch.

"This happened when she first woke up." Al said, devoid of feeling. "But she didn't go to that point." he continued. He glanced up, and switched his gaze starting from Riza, to Mustang, going though all the others until he he finally rested his gaze on Havoc. Everyone else began to look at each other, the same question going through their minds.

Just what in the world was going on?

Mustang was still kneeling on the floor, but his attention was directed to the two sheets of paper he had given Sandra. He lifted them up, and examined them closely. He read Al's paper first.

Called in from town of Villian

train ride to central

Hijack/ some plan

woman in front of Red water/ wanted Ed

breaks/ couldn't stop Ed from falling in

You guys switch bodies?

Mustang then looked at Sandra's page, which was surprisingly neat for a left handed person.

visiting the cemetery

sent to get flowers

random puddle of a red liquid appeared

didn't know about it/ just walked in

someone tackled me

body switch

Mustang noticed that the words "red water" and "red liquid" were circled, and she pretty much had a basic idea of what was happening. Now they would just have to wait until she woke up.

He stood up and brought both papers together like Sandra did. He turned and nearly bumped into Alphonse, who was wiping the sweat away from Sandra's forehead. Her breathing had returned to normal, although she still looked rather pale.

"I have a really bad feeling about this." he said out loud. _Really, really, really bad feeling._ he thought.

* * *

Walking was always the worst when you're called from the head-honchos, and walking never usually meant anything good. She could hear her high heels tapping against the floor, echoing across the abandoned building. It followed her like a mask of death.

 _Tack, tack, tack, tack, tack._

 _Shit._ she thought. _Of all the worst scale crimes to do, I chose this._ She continued walking in a straight, clear line. Funny how fear could make you do things, things you wouldn't do on a normal basis.

"Nice of you to drop by." said a voice. She stopped dead cold, any more steps would cause her death. Her head instantly picked out the clues in the voice. _Scorn, male, a bit of a scratchy voice. Who was i-?_

"Can I eat her? Please?" said another voice. Before she was even able to process what the other male had just said, a third voice emerged from the shadows.

"No, you can't, Gluttony. She's very important." a short whine was heard shortly afterwards.

"You called me?" the woman asked. In response, the shadows began to laugh at her. It was the walking definition of the word seducing. "I would like to think that we demanded you to come here. Especially after that stunt you pulled."

 _Shit._ she thought. _Nothing gets past her here._ "It was a necessary action, to get Fullmetal. Chello was losing ground. I had to-"

"Did I ask you to defend yourself?" the voice said again. She received no response and she continued. Not only did you disobey my orders, you deliberately took the situation into your own hands."

 _I'm going to die, I'm going to die._ the lady thought. "Though I can't say I'm disappointed with the results." the voice continued.

"We do need to make sure you'll stay on track though." the scornful voice said. The woman started to breathe a quick sigh of relief, when quick black lances cut through her right shoulder. She yelled out in pain.

"Keep this in mind," the seductive voice said, "if you try to pull another stunt like that again," she twisted the lances through the shoulder, causing blood to flow freely down her arm, "you'll feel something much worse than this." the lances retracted slowly, slicing more skin and flesh, blood steadily dripping onto the floor.

When they left the shoulder, the black lances flew back into the darkness with lightning speed, flinging the rest of her blood across the floor. The woman grabbed her right arm.

"You can go now." the male voice said, and the woman turned, walking in the opposite direction she had come from. She reached the metal door and she grasped the handle with her right, staining it with her blood. She walked out, and faced her companion in the train hijacking, who was leaning by the wall. He ran towards her.

"Holy shit, Jen, what happened!?" Jen kicked off her high heels and picked them up slowly with her left, wincing from the pain. She looked at his black eye and bruises, and she started to walk in the direction of the infirmary.

"I got myself into deep shit, Chello. I got myself into some deep shit."

* * *

 **Whale then. Uhh, I'm not sure that I wanted my chapter to end this way but, Ta-Da! There you go.**

 **Just when I thought, "Hey, you're never gonna finish this chapter," I finished this chapter. Please don't kill me about the re-updates because I just started checking all my files, and I realized that I've been uploading the wrong ones.**

 **On a side note: If reading my fanfiction here is somewhat difficult, I have a copy of my fanfic on under my username jesscandysweet. Just google that in and you can find my story there as well, even though I upload the chapters onto this website first. Have a nice read.**


	5. Chapter 5

"So what now?" Havoc said. "We have one kid knocked out, another somewhere we don't know, and you feel like everything's going straight to hell." he pointedly asked Mustang. He looked from one side, to another.

"That seems just about right." Mustang replied. "We just have to wait for her to wake up."

All attention was directed towards the still figure that lay on the couch. It was annoying to see Edward's body laying on the couch, only to know that it wasn't exactly Ed. Unconscious for three hours now, Sandra lay on the couch sleeping soundly after gasping for breath in one.

She had squirmed around for a few minutes before, but she was still under. Mustang was still seated at his chair, forcing himself to control a rising amount of rage. He had nothing else to do but his paper work, but as soon as he finished it, more was sent through. _Fuck my life,_ he had thought.

A knock was heard, and Mustang sharply turned his head towards it, hair streaking through the air like a black scythe. It was a knock, normal to what anyone would hear, but Mustang distinctly knew this knock. It had the air of, well, an uninvited guest.

"Come in." he said. In response a big burly man stepped into the office, barely squeezing through the small space. The same blue military uniform adorned this man, and he had few items pinned on his lapel. He walked on, and stood in front of Mustang, and Mustang instantly discerned that Sandra could be a target.

"Second lieutenant Zede Mar-Mustang?" the burly man asked. Mustang looked up at him with his coal black eyes.

"Marnoff, what are you doing here? You weren't scheduled to come in for at least _three_ days." he said. Marnoff shrugged and grinned, the same stupid smile that landed him into trouble so many years ago.

"I was eager to get here, Mustang." He glanced across the room, staring at everyone in the face, skipping the small frame that lay on the couch. "Seems like a pretty nice group you got here." He made a second round of glances, but he left a longer stare on Alphonse, and rested his gaze on Hawkeye. She eyed him distastefully.

Marnoff smirked with bemusement and switched over to Mustang. "Quite a catch, 'Stang. What did you do? Bribe someone for her?" Mustang opened his mouth to answer, but Riza beat him to it.

"The thing you're mistaken about, _Sir_ , is that he didn't bribe anyone. I'm sure you would have realized that I'm standing here by my own free will." She glanced at the back of Mustang's head. "Otherwise I would've shot him."

Mustang shuddered, slightly, but Marnoff still noticed. He broke into a barking laughter. "I can't believe this!" he cried. "You! Afraid of a woman!?" He placed a giant palm on the desk and continued laughing. A click was heard and three expertly trained shots were place around the width of the hand, sprinkling the air with splinters of wood and dust. Marnoff's hand flew up, and he grasped it.

"You're gonna want to control her, Mustang. She may be rogue." It was now Mustang's turn to smirk.

"She has full reign in keeping people in check, Marnoff." _Try not to piss her off,_ his eyes said. Marnoff prepared himself to say something else in retaliation, and would have said something, had not Sandra's breathing hitched in a way that signaled she was waking up. Marnoff glared at her in surprise, then with a malicious grin as he found a new torture victim.

Sandra's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she tried to regain her bearings. She shook her head and sat up slowly with a groan. She cradled her head in her hands, continuing to shake back and forth, ruffling the golden blonde bangs that belonged to Ed. Mustang coughed into his fist, hoping to get Sandra's attention first.

"Piss off." she said. It was subtle, but it carried the sound of a large threat in between those two words, and Mustang frowned. _At least she's still acting like him,_ he thought. He tried again.

"Fullmetal."

Sandra became ridged, slowly tilting her head sideways to see Mustang from the corner of her sight, also noticing the tallest man she had ever seen in her life. She understood.

"What d'you want, colonel Bastard?" she said condescendingly. Mustang sat there, shocked by the way Sandra had just called him the one thing he only knew one person to say. Marnoff stood, watching the petty small talk unfold right in front of him. Mustang pursed his lip. _If she knows something, then maybe..._

"If there's one thing I want," he said. "I would _like_ to have your _attention_ , Fullmetal." Mustang tapped on his desk, twice. Mostly everyone's attention was guided towards him and Sandra. They didn't literally glance in their direction, but a trained eye could see that they weren't paying as much attention to their work as they were before. Only Marnoff continued staring down at the two conversationalists.

"Ask for _Rachel's_ attention, Mustang." Mustang could see Havoc frown in confusion in his peripheral vision, but Sandra continued talking. "Besides, after she found out you were talking to that other girl," she tilted her head, a thoughtful look on her face, " _Oliver_ , was it? I dunno, she went crying to her friend _Yasmine._ " She brought her legs up onto the couch and crossed them, making sure to thump the couch twice. She stared deeply into Mustang's shocked eyes, with a smug expression.

"What are you so surprised for? You talk so loud on the phone, the whole country can hear you." The room was silent, Mustang continued staring wide-eyed at Sandra, while she remained non-chalant. Breda looked ready to fall off his chair, gripping his side of the desk with shaking hands, and Havoc had stared directly at his own paper, lost, mouth agape. Marnoff broke the silence.

"I can't believe you let this little kid talk to you like that." he said, chuckling. "You're probably getting soft, 'Stang." He turned to leave, striding towards the doors with with large, bold steps. Everyone trailed his every move.

After Marnoff left the office, everyone released their breaths. Sandra stood up from the couch and began to pace back and forth, fingers laced behind her neck. She looked shaken.

"Don't ever do that again." she said. Mustang couldn't help but hear the small twinge that had accompanied her voice. _Was she scared? But she was fine._ he thought.

Alphonse, who was standing behind the couch, went around and gripped Sandra forcefully, whirling her around to face him. Her arms fell to her sides, and she stared at Al with wide eyes

"How did you know what to call Mustang?" he demanded. "And how did you know his first name?" Mustang stared at Al questioningly.

"What do you mean?" Mustang questioned Al. He never glanced away from Sandra while answering. "I never told her your first name." Alphonse shook Sandra softly, pressuring for an answer.

"How did you know?" he asked a second time.

Sandra didn't answer. Instead she tore her gaze away from Al and stalked off towards Mustang's desk, while the Colonel gawked at her in silence. Just who the hell was this girl?

Sandra took the two sheets of paper that were on his desk and flipped both over, dragging her own towards her. She also took one of the idle pens that lay quietly next to the papers, and she began to draw a large object on the back of her page.

"Mustang." she said, still doodling. Mustang looked squarely at her, and he watched the golden eyes set in concentration. He thought about the moment when he told her not to prank people when she was upset. He thought about the way he searched her eyes for the same fire he knew Edward always possesed.

Mustang indeed found fire, but it wasn't the same burning passion that Ed had, it was more of a glowing ember, one found in a sweet smelling candle, or a fireplace for example. Mustang tried to understand how he managed to mistaken those two. It was probably when he had pissed her off, three hours ago, the similarity _was_ uncanny.

"Mustang." Sandra repeated, a little more intent.

He focused on her. "What?" he replied. While still scribbling around her own page, she passed Al's page towards him, using her right. "I need you to draw the country." she answered. Mustang was forced to do a double take.

"The country? What?" He couldn't understand why she would ask that type of request. Couldn't she have done it herself?

Sandra sighed in a tired manner and handed Mustang a pen. "Just do it." Mustang hesitantly took the pen, while glancing behind Sandra, where the others merely shrugged, clueless to her request as well.

Mustang studied the blank side of the paper, and began to start his diagram, starting with Amestris. He frowned upon his artwork ability as he continued to draw the states that bordered Amestris, once re-drawing an entire line for Aerego. When he was done, he set the paper down and slid it away from him, towards Sandra, who was still scribbling.

Mustang watched as she quickly formed lines and squiggles around a weird shape she had created. She drew a quick sharp line across an inch of space, and she too, set her pen down. she turned the page upside down, so that Mustang could get a clearer view of what she had drawn. He peered at it, and struggled to contain his laughter.

"Looks like a whale." he commented, mirth well seasoned. Sandra was unperturbed, and she pointed at his own drawing. "Well, yours looks like a dysfunctional tire." she shot back.

"Hey!" Mustang protested. Hawkeye leaned over to see the drawing he failed to protect and nodded her head. "She's right, Sir." Roy looked up at her with stung pride. _Traitor,_ he accused in his mind.

Havoc tilted his head sideways, pondering over the back and forth responses. "How do you get completely different shapes?" he wondered out loud. Sandra turned to face him, leaning on the desk, arms crossed.

"That's what happens when you get two completely different countries." she replied. That did it. Breda succeeded on flipping over his chair with himself on it, and Havoc damn near lost his mind. He stared at Sandra, his mouth hanging open like a fish gasping for air. His mouth then formed words, but no sound came out.

Al began to say something, but then realized the weight of her words. "So, you mean...Brother isn't near us?" he asked softly. Sandra stared at Alphonse with a pained expression. She hung her head and stared at the floor, suddenly interested in it.

"It's a much broader scale than that, Al." she whispered to the floor. Alphonse continued staring at Sandra with a concerned aura. His arms were crossed, and his usual looseness was stiffened. Truth be told, he was afraid of what she was going to say, in fact, everyone was tentative around Sandra's words.

Sandra shifted her position, and raised her left arm to her face, gingerly placing the thumbnail under her upper teeth, a complete picture of worried concentration. If Al wasn't so floored, he would have thought this position was absolutely picture worthy.

Sandra closed her eyes, and ran her hand through her hair, muttering, "This is bullshit." She stared at the floor with a vacant expression, oblivious to those surrounding her. Mustang reached over and tapped her on the back, aiming for the serpent's head on Edward's Flamel. She shot back into attention and glanced behind her, barely looking at Mustang.

"Just how broad are you talking about, Sandra?" he asked. Sandra faced the couch a second time, seemingly at conflict with herself. She separated her hands, side by side. "Let's start with universal."

* * *

"Amestris, Amestris, anything else but Amestris." Edward sighed. He had been exploring Sandra's phone for at least three hours by the time on the "cellphone" he was holding. Pointless games, a contact's list, and a small icon that had the name "Google Maps" wasn't helping at all, much less how the damned map couldn't find a simple country. It had to be dysfunctional, right?

He sighed again. Leave it to the Fullmetal Alchemist to scorch his brain and switch bodies with a girl. A girl with a pubescent body that is. Everything was going to go down to hell, if he didn't get his body back, but why hasn't Mustang started a search party for a teenage girl who had coincidentally been electrocuted somewhere around the same time he had?

 _She's probably taking my place,_ he thought. _Yeah right. As if someone would try to take my role._ But why would anyone stay silent about this type of matter? "Agrhh, fuck it." he cursed out loud.

"Watch your tongue, young lady." said a stern voice. Edward whipped his head towards the door of his room, and standing there was Sandra's mother. She walked though the doorway carrying a set of clothing, and a pair of shoes.

"If you want to curse, do it outside, not here, you dope." she said, laying the clothing on the chair across his bed, and the shoes under it. Ed became gravely confused by the mother's display of reprimanding. He was allowed to curse?

"Sorry mom, I just wanted to see how colorful I could make my language." said the young alchemist. He waited, wondering what the woman would say next, would she be mad, or just indifferent? She laughed, light and soft as air. Indifferent it is.

"Hurry and get dressed, Sandra. We have to leave soon." She stepped back and surveyed the room, equally mesmerized by the cream color splashed around.

Ed sat in his bed, watching Sandra's mother as she went from wall to wall, until staring at her "daughter" expectantly.

"Well? You're not just going to sit there, are you?" She quipped.

"Oh, um, sorry. Just let me, uh."

Edward stood up, trying with his might to casually walk towards his clothing, well, the clothing he was supposed to wear.

After mumbling his thanks towards the stranger before him, he walked towards the bathroom, clothes and shoes in hand. Once there, he was faced with a problem.

He would have to change. Like literally _remove_ Sandra's hospital gown, and then _replace_ it with the fresh set her mother had given him.

He quickly locked the door behind him, his cheeks burning redder than his own crimson coat. He slowly walked up to the mirror, watching the teenage figure's face.

Sandra's face gained a more shineful set of eyes now that Ed realized what he had to do, and her cheeks were flaming bright.

 _She looks cute blushing,_ Ed thought idle-y. He watched in silent horror as the reflection in the mirror burned with a greater red.

 _What the hell am I thinking!? I'm in her body!_ He growled at himself in a low voice and forcefully ruffled his hair, sending stray hairs into little shocked rods. He sighed, stripping himself of the gown with his eyes closed.

Blindly searching for the set of clothing he left on the toilet seat, he grabbed the first thing his fingers came into contact with. He felt a fabric much softer than pants, and released his breathed in an explosive gasp as he realized he was holding a shirt.

"Are you okay, honey?" Sandra's mother asked through the door.

"Never better!" he called back, refraining from cracking his own voice.

He struggled with the shirt in his hands, trying to calculate a way to put it on, _without_ touching her bust, of course. Try as he might, he couldn't find a certain way, not with that jumbled mind of his.

He passed the collar of the shirt over his neck, then followed through with his arms and torso, pulling the remainder of the shirt down with lightening speed. Deed done, he opened his eyes, and peered at the shirt his temporary mother had given him.

It was nice, grey top, with a simple cartoon figure Ed just didn't know about. Mouse, maybe?

He reached over for the pair of pants, feeling that they weren't so problematic as a simple shirt. He slipped those on, noticing the small rips on the knees. He shrugged, it just made Sandra look more badass.

Unlocking the door, Ed threw it wide open and stalked towards the vacant chair to put his shoes on, remnants of his blush still gracing his face. This did not go unnoticed by the mother, who blocked his way from a few feet.

"Are you okay?" she asked. Ed stifled a snort, and casually answered, "Just holding my breath in the bathroom." He leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Smells like _crap._ " he finished. Leaning back, he side-stepped the woman and made his way towards the chair, sitting in it and quickly slipped Sandra's scarred foot into a sock, which he found inside the shoe.

As he slipped on his shoes, it occurred to him that the woman was trying to leave at a quicker pace. She crossed the room with involuntary movements, constantly checking her watch, then slapping her phone lightly against her hand. Whatever she wanted, she wanted it done, **_now._**

"Are _you_ okay?" Sandra's mother, glanced up sharply and smiled at Edward awkwardly. "Sorry, it's just-" She paused lifting one hand up to her face, and stopped walking.

"I don't... _know_ , if I could handle burying another one of my babies." She choked on the last word and turned away from Ed, breathing deeply.

Ed felt crushed. If he survived switching bodies with Sandra, that didn't mean that she could have as well. He almost died, and that would have been disastrous all on it's own, but what about Sandra? Had she survived? If she did, how the hack was he supposed to know?

Acting on impulse, Ed stalked towards Sandra's mother, whipped her around, and hugged her tightly. "I'm here." he said. _Liar._ "Don't worry." _Liar._ "I'm fine." _LIES!_ Ed waited until he felt two arms lace around his back, and the woman's head rested on his shoulder.

"Oh, honey."

* * *

"So you mean to tell me, you live in another world, the year is 2015, and we don't exist?" Mustang asked skeptically. Sandra shrugged her shoulders.

"Sounds just about right. Except the fact that you guys," she said pointing to everyone else in the room, "Are in a type of comic that's called Japanese Manga."

Sandra's last sentence was met with silence and few confused stares. She sighed. "It's your world's version of Xing."

Mustang sighed and shook his head. "I'm calling your bluff, this isn't possible." Glances were exchanged, and few others nodded in agreement with him. Some shook there heads and Mustang could've sworn he heard Fuery mumble, "... didn't kill me."

Sandra looked over to Alphonse, who nodded towards her. She sighed again, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm probably going to regret this."

She was met with even more questioning glances while she walked towards a window. Sandra remained silent as she struggled to open the latch due to her new height, and Mustang was heard snickering.

"Looks like you could use a hand." he supplied. Sandra stepped a few paces back, and ran towards the window, jumping at the last second and supporting herself with the ledge. She sat comfortably on top, and casually answered, "Nah, I think I got it."

Free to use both hands, she flicked the latch and opened the window, golden braid flowing freely through the wind that danced into the room. Sandra cleared her throat and cupped her hands around her mouth, trying to make her voice as audible as possible.

"MY NAME IS EDWARD ELRIC, AND I'M A TINY LITTLE PIPSQUEAK! she yelled out. She waited and heard a deep throated laughter resonate from the ground floor, and she smiled in satisfaction.

Closing the window, she turned towards the room, where everyone was staring at her in shocked silence. Contented, she slid off the window ledge and walked towards Mustang, who was completely shell-shocked.

"Are we still leaving room for doubt?" she asked him. "Or do you want me to drink milk as well?"

* * *

 **YYYYYEEEESSSSSSS! UGH, this took me, like soooo, much time, put it is finished! (yeah, just _chapter 5, with such a wishy-washy ending_ ) shut up subconscious. I started school on the third, so I will have issues trying to write more for this story, as well as baby sitting my nephew during the night while my sister is at work.**

 **Oh man, I am in tenth grade, so classes are really demanding, but GOOD NEWS! I don't have school on Monday so I will get as much as I can during my three day weekend. I've read fanfictions in this fan-base that deliver chapters on a regular basis, but please don't kill me because of my irregularity.**

 **(IDEK why) For inspirational music to end this chappie/note, I ask you to listen to my most favorite song Battle Scars by Paradise Fears (most preferably acoustic, whatever floats your boat ^-^) and I ask of you to enjoy.**

 **Trust me and believe me when I say I'll get you a new chap soon. Thanks for reading, reveiwing, following and sticking to me though I complain sometimes, bye!**


	6. Chapter 6

It took a couple of hours to calm Mustang's nerves, and before then, Sandra had left with Alphonse on a search for answers. That left much to be desired, as Sandra's very presence had caused major confusion and rose highly important questions.

Who exactly was she? Could she be trusted? Is she a spy? What the _hell_ was she talking about when she said "Manga?"

Mustang could have asked many more questions, if only he could focus on arranging his worlds correctly in his already troubled mind.

Sandra on the other hand was just hell-bent on creating confusion. And much confusion she did create, as not only Mustang was trying to shake off her effects, but his entire team.

Riza shook herself. "Sir, you can't spend time worrying about her."

"There's so many things to worry about here" he retorted. "Where did she come from again?"

Falman cleared his throat, always ready with an answer. "She did say 'universal.' It's most likely she was talking about a parallel universe."

Mustang snorted distastefully, the image of a child jumping through space floating through his mind. "As if."

Breda nodded slowly. "No, he's right." Mustang stared at his subordinate, wondering how he could believe such a thing.

"She said that Japan was this world's version of Xing. If that's the case, her world is exactly like ours, but at the same time, it's different."

Mustang pondered over the thought, connecting dots and creating links. Jeez, this was going to be a confusing job.

"Elaborate."

Havoc began to shake himself as well, tossing away the lost shine in his gaze. "Think about it." He said slowly. "When you two drew the countries, you redrew Amestris, but she created something entirely different."

"But-"

"You called it a whale, Mustang! Of all things!"

The colonel was still skeptical of Sandra. Just how do you travel from universe to universe? He traded glances with the rest of his subordinates, finding the same look on each of their expressions.

 _Face it, Roy. This isn't Ed._

"You all believe this kid?" he said, even though he knew the answer himself.

Havoc stood from his chair and leaned on his desk. "She shamed us with barely a few words, she embarrassed _you,_ " he pointed an accusing finger in his direction. "With just a sentence, and that's not something the chief can do, easily for that matter."

"Come to think of it, she went from explosive to calm very quickly. We all know the cheif's the opposite." Breda continued.

"Alright, alright. I get it." Mustang relented, rubbing his temples. "It's just so hard to wrap my head around this."

"Then don't."

Mustang faced his subordinate, Riza, with wide eyes. "How do you expect me to do that?" Voice incredulous.

She sighed, as if calming a wild spirited pup. "There are some things people can handle, Sir. Some things are either too large to grasp, or too subtle to see."

"Speaking of subtle, no one's going to take the news of Sandra very lightly if word got out." Havoc pointed.

Following his words, Mustang could only wonder what would be in store for Sandra if she _was_ discovered. Drugs? Interrogation? He felt a shiver go down his spine as the thought of torture...

No, they wouldn't do that. Not to a child. He shook the thought away from his mind, itching for a distraction.

 ** _RING_**

And there it was, the small, almost insignificant sound that saved him from paperwork. He picked up the phone, and held it to his ear.

"Yo! Mustang!" the voice cried eagerly.

 _Shit._ Paper sounded much more appealing now.

"Hughes. This better not be about your daughter."

The rest of the team groaned inwardly, knowing what was to come. Gushing, anger, sarcasm and the threats. Number one was coming up, much to the others disappointment.

"Don't be so heartless, Roy. She's the most beautiful girl ever known to man."

"Yeah, yeah. Just like the last _thousand_ times you said that." Mustang growled. His grip tightened on the phone handle. He didn't have time for this. Not after what happened...wait. Hughes didn't know about this, Roy would have to tell him later. The phone was too dangerous.

"Hughes, something's come up. I need you to get here now." _Jokes over._

"What? Proclaiming your love to Riza?" Try as he might, Roy couldn't but feel his cheeks flush with heated embarrassment. The damn phone was audible as hell, considering the stream of snickers he heard behind his back as he whipped his chair around to hide his still flushing face.

"Hughes." He growled in a lower tone, gritting his teeth. Over the phone, he heard a soft thump, and small mumbling was heard through the other end.

"Hughes?"

"Just in the library. Lookin' up disappearances over the past couple of months."

"And?"

"There's just too many articles for one person to read." Another thump in the distance and the thought of Hughes rubbing his chin popped up in Mustang's mind.

"I'd much rather switch to something more enjoyable." Hughes sighed.

"That makes tw-" _Switch. Sandra, and Fullmetal._ He almost forgot about those two kids, and just the thought of them churned his guilt even more.

"Roy? You okay?" Hughes asked concernedly.

Mustang shook his head. "I'm fine, I just remembered something. Hey, can you pull up anything on red water?"

The rest of the team perked up considerably, aching to hear the response.

"Sure. What for?" the family man asked.

Mustang snorted, "Trust me, you'll find out when you get here." Ending his reply, there was a slam on the other side of the phone, and then a swear.

"Shit, alright. I'll talk to you later." And then a click on the receiver.

Mustang turned his chair to his desk and put the phone down. _Oh you'll find out._

* * *

"So when were you born?" Al asked, strolling with his new-found companion, nudging her with a slight pressure.

"I don't think you should be asking a cat that, Al." Sandra said with a laugh. Originally, Alphonse had thought the young black cat was male, until Sandra had instructed him to reconfirm her sex after glancing at the feline with a questioning stare.

"Well." He said after the cat had nudged him back with a running purr. "Who should I ask that question to?"

"Well, me, I suppose." She said with a shrug. Al laughed louder than she had, as they walked down a street filled with stores. An occasional murmur from a shop keeper reaching their ears in a plea for a purchase.

"Okay, really funny. Brother was born on the year 1899, and you're two years older than him, making your year either 1898 or '97."

Sandra nodded. "Right, because it depends on the month I was born. But," she raised a finger and stared at Al with the same little smirk she gave the soldier in the hallway. "Take 1898, and add one hundred years to that." she turned back. "There you have it."

Alphonse grabbed his smaller companion, peering deeply into the liquid golden eyes. "YOU'RE FROM THE FUTURE!?"

Sandra sent a panicked glance around the street, where some were starting to stare with unabated interest. She began to feel bad vibes in the air, turning to see an empty stand. She glanced around more, trying to find the source of the unrelenting malevolence, but found none. She turned to Alphonse hesitantly.

"Nice acting skills, Bro Bro, but you can't just say that out loud in public." she said boldly. She nudged him close, walking forward. "As long as I'm here, I can be a threat. There could be anyone after me, besides, I already told you about the year in my world." she whispered low enough for only Al to hear. The bad vibes continued, like crashing waves.

He nodded. "Oh, right." His thoughts trailed away to the day of the accident. _Can it even be called that?_ Al thought. It was all planned, but what if the outcome wasn't what the enemy wanted?

 _The lady with the wolfish smile, imitating the motion of tipping a hat that was never there. "Sorry to be blunt but we're going to go away for a while." Walking towards the window on her side, all the while smiling as Ed lay helplessly on the ground after the alchemical reaction faded._

 _She opened the window and looked out, waving her hand out the side as the train slowly came to a stop. "Take care of the child." Others started to swarm through the windows, smashing through, and crunching glass beneath their feet as they landed swiftly._

 _Without thought, Al stiffened his stance, prepared to fight at whatever cost. Multiple clicks sounded through the car, all guns pointed at the limp form of the young alchemist. "I'd suspect you to behave yourself." The woman said, her own pistol gleaming in the sunlight, slanted downwards. "You wouldn't want to lose your brother, would you?"_

 _Silence hung in the air, the crumpled glass has seemingly disappeared. She woman replaced her pistol. "Good. Now we'll just be on our way." She moved towards the side._

 _"You're not taking my brother." Al growled lowly. The lady smirked from Al's side view and continued walking away, waving her arm in the air. "We don't need him. Since we already have him."_

 _"What?"_

 _"Move out."_

 _Much to the younger Elric's surprise, the strangers began to move expertly at a quick pace. "Chello" - as he was called - was lifted from where he had been laying, and dragged out from farther down the last car. Some had literally climbed out the windows from which they crashed through like quick nimble cats._

Speaking of cats, a certain someone had to be careful before,

"Look out!" All attention was guided towards to the side, where unfortunately Sandra had collided into an old man that was tripping on his feet. They were both sent windmilling to the ground, while Sandra had already encased the elderly man in a protective hug. They both landed on the ground with a thud, and few painful groans.

"You dumbass, look where you're going!" Someone yelled. Sandra paid no mind and began to help the elderly man up, who had begun shaking with fear. She kept a steady grip on his arms as he slowly stood up.

"Are you okay?" she asked. She frowned to herself when she heard snickers from the surrounding shops. The man looked up at Sandra with fearful eyes, showing no intention that he had understood. Another man spoke up. "The boy asked if you were okay, old man. Show some respect."

Sandra scowled and opened her mouth to retort. Who the hell did they think was a,

She smacked her forehead, forgetting the vital fact that she was in a boy's body. She got so wrapped up in her thought's that she didn't hear the old man's reply.

"What you say to me old man?" The man spoke again. He took a step forward and the elderly man raised his arms to shield himself. "Lo siento!" he yelled. Sandra snapped to attention and stood in front of the man, shielding the other with an extended arm.

"He said he's sorry!" she defended. Everyone stared at Sandra in surprise, switching from the old man to her. The man stood in front of her and narrowed his eyes. "You understand this old guy?" Sandra stared at the others, confused. "Don't any of you?" she asked back.

Everyone shook their heads. "No. We all thought he was insane." Sandra scoffed at the idea. "Yeah, and I guess coffee's made out of apples." She retorted sarcastically.

Few men sent glares towards Sandra, but slowly went about their business, muttering softly to one another.

A few minutes later, the trio were sitting comfortably with the elderly man, who still seemed to quake with fear. Sandra and Al stole a glance at each other. Sandra cleared her throat.

 _"Are you okay?"_ She asked. Al gasped softly, surprised by the fluent words Sandra was speaking. The elderly man glanced sharply at her with wide eyes.

 _"You speak-"_

The men who criticized the old man began to gawk at Sandra, switching from the old man to her.

"No way!" Someone said.

"He can talk the same way!" Another cried. Sandra sighed and shook her head. _"Why is this a surprise?"_ The elderly man eagerly reached over and pulled Sandra's hand in a firm shake.

 _"My name is Daniel. I haven't had someone to speak to for years, and now-"_ the man started laughing, shocking Sandra and the others.

"He's obviously insane." The shop keeper said. Sandra shook her head and turned. "He's said he hasn't had anyone to speak for years." Some of the men looked down at their drinks, ashamed.

"He's relieved." Sandra finished.

 _"What is your real name, child?"_ Daniel asked. Sandra's eyes widened and she slowly turned back towards the old man. His eyes showed no sign of laughter before, just the curious glint of a victim.

 _"What did you say?"_ She whispered. Al picked up the tone of Sandra's voice and tensed. He couldn't understand her, but he knew the way she was feeling. The old man narrowed his eyes.

 _"Your real name. I know the one you use around them,"_ he gestured around the public. _"Isn't your real name. So what is it?"_ Sandra looked around the room, where some people cast furtive glances to her and the old man. She looked at Alphonse, who took note of her nervous stare. Sandra sighed.

 _"The name of this boy's body,"_ She laid a hand on her chest. _"Is Edward Elric."_ Alphonse paid more attention to Sandra's word as he recognized his brother's name. He became confused when he saw Sandra's gaze become hard and focused.

 _"My real name is Sandra Lawrence."_

* * *

"Sandra Lawrence, huh?"

"That's what she said, Hughes."

"And I'm guessing you all believe her?"

Mustang's team groaned, surprising Hughes. "Just what did she do?" he asked, looking around the room. Everyone had either covered their faces or just rubbed their foreheads. Riza supplied Hughes with a simple, "She... surprised them."

Hughes raised an eyebrow. "How exactly?"

All attention was directed to the door when the loud clank of Al's armor sounded through the hall way. The doors slammed open and Sandra ran in with an urgent look on her face, while Al was still behind.

"Wait for me!" His voice echoed. Sandra paid no mind and ran towards Mustang's desk, slamming her hands on the top. "I'm not the only one!" She yelled out loud. Mustang leaned back on his chair, shocked by Sandra's behavior.

"What?"

Sandra stood back, breathing heavily. She pushed the bangs away from her face, her eyes wide. "I'm not the only one to switch bodies with someone." She wrung her hands together, showing her nervousness. Hughes coughed into his fist to get Sandra's attention.

"It seems we haven't met yet." He held his hand out, waiting for Sandra to put her own in his. She eyed it warily, and looked up at him.

"I already know who you are, Hughes." She said with a questioning tone. Hughes continued to leave his hand in the air. "But I don't know who you are." Nonetheless, Sandra continued to leave his hand in empty air. Mustang traded glances with the others.

"It's just a handshake, Sandra." Riza calmly said to her. Sandra blinked. "I know. But I feel like he's gonna pull me in and force me to see pictures of his daughter."

Perhaps it was the way Sandra had said it, or the way she gazed the hand with mistrust, but Hughes began to laugh. He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, you got me."

Mustang stared at Sandra with a curious hint. "How did you know?" Sandra turned to look at Mustang with a look that purely rang of "Seriously?," and said, "Well, for starters, it was that glint in his eyes." She took in a breath to continue her explanation, but thought better. "That's not the problem though."

Mustang nodded. "Right. This whole...body switching problem."

Sandra also nodded her head and began to relay all that she could remember in their encounter.

 _ **"What happened to you?"** Sandra asked. The old man looked around with wary eyes before answering Sandra's question. _

**_"Something evil."_** _Sandra sat back in her chair, pondering over the man's words. He had to be exactly like her, but there was something terribly wrong if she wasn't the only one dealing with this type of issue. She pressed on, determined._

 ** _"Who did this to you?"_** _The old man shook his head and sighed._

 ** _"I don't know, but I know that they don't care for people like us."_** _He coughed into his fist. **"I spent years trying to get someone to help, I felt like eyes were following me,"** he looked around and leaned in close, **"Ever since I stepped into that demon water."**_

 _Sandra felt her eyes go wide, her jaw slacken as her memory flashed to the day in the cemetery, her hands went limp on the table. The old man nodded in understanding. **"See, I told you. We're the same."**_

 _Sandra couldn't fine her words, until a she heard a commotion outside the small cafe she was in, and she stood to her feet. The commotion was brought inside as men clad in white began to look around the room, and their attention was brought towards the old man and Sandra._

 _"Here he is." The men made their way towards Sandra and the old man while one of them gingerly held a bag in his arms. Sandra jumped forward and stepped between the old man and the two men dressed in white. Both shared a glance before speaking calmly to Sandra._

 _"Kid, he has to come with us." Sandra held her stance and continued blocking the men._

 _"Where do you want to take him?" She asked pointedly. The room about them had a cold, empty feeling as all attention was guided towards them._

 _"Please, he's going to be taken care of. There's a -"_

 _"They want to take him to a nut-house." Someone abruptly said. The male nurse winced and held his out his hand. "Kid, he's clearly sick." Sandra shook her head._

 _"He isn't sick. He's foreign." When no-one dared to stop Sandra from her explanation, she continued. "He's from far in the east. No-one understands him because he speaks another language."_

"After that, they made me prove that I could understand him by talking to him in that language." Sandra chuckled nervously and laced her fingers around her neck. "You should've seen the looks on their faces when I spoke to him in Spanish."

"Is that what it's called? Spanish?" Hughes asked. Sandra nodded her head enthusiastically, and she dropped her hands on her side.

"Although, I'm confused he spoke Spanish." Sandra pointed to herself. "I'm from America, and Amestris in my world would be Germany, which is halfway across my world."

Mustang arched an eyebrow. "Which would mean...?"

"Why does it feel like I'm still speaking English and not German? Better yet, what if Edward is speaking German in my world, and not English like my mother would expect me to?"

* * *

"Hey mom?" Ed asked. Sandra's mother slightly turned her head to look at the face of her daughter. Seeing that look of motherly love made Ed squirm because he knew it wasn't for him.

"Yes?"

"Can you tell me when buildings got so huge?" His question was met with laughter, and her grip tightened on the steering wheel. She continued laughing and Ed slowly felt himself smiling. It felt good to see Sandra's mother act so happy after her whole episode in the hospital. The thought of that place made Ed's smile disappear. The size of that place alone was huge, and the drive home was promising even larger buildings.

"I'd like to think that large buildings started to be built in the 19th century." Sandra's mother said. Ed sat in his seat surprised and disturbed. It seemed to him that he would only feel shock and surprise today, because he was just dealing with random things at random points of time. Like the first time he saw the woman's car.

Or the time when he gazed more clearly at the tiny date on the cell phone, the date that read, "July 10th, 2015."

That would explain a lot of things. Like why the hospital was different, and why clothing also seemed much more different as well. Like, seriously, A mouse for a design on a shirt!? Who in their right mind would wear that!?

It didn't mean that Ed had accepted the change of atmosphere and time, far from it. He was completely shell-shocked by what he tried to wrap his head around and it did scare him to some degree to think that he could have been an old man during this time.

All the more adding to his determination that he should get his body back and _home,_ so far he seemed stuck. Alchemy couldn't even be a subject to consider because it seemed Sandra's world's version of alchemy was just used for transmuting base metals into gold. Not that it worked anyway.

His situation pissed him off to no end, and he hated it. He even tried clapping his hands together to test his abilities, and even that much was considered null and void. No sparks. No transmutation. There was nothing wrong about it. He was stuck, and all because of a stupid body switch.

Just perfect. Wait 'till Mustang heard about this indeed.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading and please review ^_^**


	7. Chapter 7

The drive home was pleasant enough, Edward spent most of it staring vacantly out the window since he had nothing else to do. Sandra's mother on the other hand was intent on creating some spare conversation.

"Enjoying the view?"

"Yeah."

"Tired?"

"Yeah."

"Hungry?"

Before Ed could answer with any clear or honest answer, his stomach growled in response, earning a curt nod from Sandra's mother.

"Yup. I thought so." She said nonchalantly. Edward tried to shrink back into his car seat as much as possible to hide his burning cheeks, though he wasn't very successful in trying. The drive continued for a few minutes, before the car pulled up to a nicely paved driveway, lined with stepping stones. Leaning as far as possible towards the window, Ed decided that the house was technically the same size as his old house.

The front porch was painted as white as he could imagine, and it was simply decorated with two chairs and a glass table. He looked around the house itself and lingered on the mix of dark and light blue paint that encased most of the house. His lips twitched. He wasn't much of a fan for the color blue, but this was pretty nice.

He jabbed his thumb toward the catch on the seat belt, letting the silken fabric slide against his torso. Opening the car door, Ed stepped out and was enveloped with a strong force of wind, his newly attained brown hair whisking through the air in a futile attempt of being swept away by the wind. A brown strand flitted past his eyes, and he instantly imagined his mother, her loosely tied hair floating with the gusts of wind.

He closed his eyes and savored the sound, the feeling, the smell of the wind, standing with one hand on the car door. In his darkness, he became uncomfortable as he felt that someone was watching him. He glanced around for Sandra's mother, but she was already up the steps of the porch, her back facing him. He looked around as the wind died down into a small breeze, noticing the window shade of the house opposite of him close quickly, but not before he saw a set of green eyes staring at him.

 _Uhh, weird?_

"Are you coming up or not?"

Ed turned around to face Sandra's mother, who was staring at him expectantly. The front door was open, and she was beginning to walk in by herself, not bothering to wait for a reply. Closing the car door, Ed made his way around the driveway and onto the porch steps, choosing to ignore the ever present growl of hunger.

Hospital food just couldn't do enough for him, it seemed.

* * *

Alphonse finished his book with a sigh, and shut it quietly. He had read that book before, well, Edward had, but was when he was confined to his wheelchair the day before he received automail surgery. It was beyond him to understand why the Central library had the same book, but nonetheless, it was good enough for him that he was able to read it on his own. The book that he wanted to read however, was currently under Sandra's supervision.

Or her face, one would say. After hours of reading, Sandra had finally succumbed to the lulls of rest, and had literally lain on the book itself. Al couldn't blame her, she had a pretty long and stressful day. Even then, he couldn't help but feel irked by the fact that the book he wanted to read was right under her face. He wanted to be polite, but the thought of just reading that book that could lead him to Edward was scratching away at him.

Sandra was just laying her arms across the book, her back rising and falling softly as she slept with her head covered. Breda had pulled the hood of Ed's coat over her head, allowing for her to fall asleep more quickly. Al patted the book in his hand against one of his gauntlets, wondering.

Should he or should he not take the book from under Sandra? He certainly didn't want to wake her up. But he didn't want to wait another moment to find any possible answers that could lead him to his stared in her direction, weighing his options.

"Alphonse?"

The younger Elric turned towards the Colonel, who had spoken. The Colonel was staring at him with a seemingly concerned stare.

"You okay?"

Al shrugged his shoulders. "Why, yeah?"

"Well, you've been staring at Sandra for a while." If armor could blush, that would have been the precise moment Alphonse would have done it. He flustered and shot his hands up in the air in a defensive stance.

"She just has the book I've wanted to read but,"

Sandra stirred at Al's voice, placing one arm behind her neck while shifting the position of her head. Everyone stilled their breath until she had quieted down and remained still, minus the easy and even breathing that confirmed she was asleep. Fuery started towards to her.

"Is that type of posture natural?" he asked softly. Al shook his head but mirthfully stared at the posture Ed's body was in. "It's the right arm, so it shouldn't hurt." Al suspected that Fuery would leave Sandra be, but he still made his way towards her.

"Wha-?" Al drawled off, watching silently as Fuery quietly extracted the book from under Sandra, gently lifting her face and pulling out the book as if was a precious artifact. Deed done, he closed the book and walked over to Al.

"Here." He said, holding out the book for Al to take. The armored boy received the book with a hesitant grasp, twisting the book over to glance at the binding.

 _'Aqua Rubrum: Attributes and History by Parraselcus'_

Al twisted the book again and stared at the cover. The cover was completely covered in an illustration of a vat of Red Water tipping over to pour an immense amount of it's contents into a small mold. The mold itself was clear and half filled, though it was sloshing about due to the amount pouring over it. Al looked closer at the cover, staring at the mold in confusion.

It wasn't anything remarkable, but the shape was too irregular for anything useful. It broke off into different sections, and shaped into nothing anyone would use for everyday use. Al gasped at the cover as he realized that the mold the took form of a stone.

 _Is Red Water used to create Philosopher's stones?_

* * *

"Are you going to drink that or not?" Sandra's mother asked. Ed stared at her with a confused expression and glanced back at the glass cup sitting on the kitchen table. The brown liquid inside sizzled as bubbles floated to the rim and popped. The color of the drink made him uneasy, and the scent of it didn't match in his mind. He stared at the glass with a distrustful gaze. He blinked, and it was already in the hand of Sandra's mother. She took a sip, and placed it back on table beside him.

"See? It's not bad."

Reluctantly moving his hand towards the cup, he picked it up and held it up in front of him. Taking a final glance at Sandra's mother, he wiped the rim with his sleeve, and raised the glass to his lips, not bothering to take a small sip.

His reaction was automatic. Too late before he noticed the liquid burning his tongue, he swallowed his drink, grabbing his throat with his free hand. He coughed and set the cup down, turning away from the counter. He placed a fist in front of mouth, coughing as the burning feeling in his throat quickly went away. He blinked in surprise, spilling the tears that had formed when he was coughing. He vaguely sensed being patted on the back.

"I guess three days or longer is enough to get over soda." _**(1)**_

"Yeah, I guess." Wiping away the tears, Ed sent a smoldering glare at the cup sitting on the table, glad enough that it wouldn't do anything else to him. He turned towards Sandra's mother, before a loud burp rumbled from his throat, silencing his efforts of conversation. He slapped a hand over his mouth, and stared in silence.

Sandra's mother stared back at Ed for a moment, before breaking down into a mess of laughter. She gripped her side with one hand, and supported herself with the table. Edward felt his cheeks go hot and he glanced aside, leaning back into his chair. He glanced down at his boots and tapped on his thighs, while the woman kept laughing.

She stood up from her seat, chuckling occasionally while making her way towards the fridge. Ed found this as the opportunity to lay his flaming cheeks against the table, wrapping his arms around his head.

 _Is this woman Bipolar?_

* * *

"How's everything going on your end?"

"So far so good. What about you? Aaron?"

"Sunny as toddler on Christmas."

"Same here."

Jen swiveled her chair around, twirling the pen in her hand nervously. Everything had to done just right, but it didn't seem to be going well. She turned back towards her desk and pressed the button on the intercom. She stared questioningly at the microphone, opting to speak into her two-way radio again.

"Chello, are you sure you and Aaron are good?" She asked pointedly. Her radio crackled silently before she received another answer, Chello's manner nonchalant.

"Yeah. Let's go."

Jen pressed on the intercom button again, and she cleared her voice. "Start it up." At her command, Whirs were heard on the other side of the intercom, smooth and controlled. Then a rumbled occurred beneath her feet and she stared down in determination.

 _Come on, come on._

The rumble in the ground died and a loud screech shook the walls from every side was in. Jen screamed in pain as her eardrums were practically were blasted from her head. She slammed a fist on the intercom and screamed, "Shut that damned thing off!"

The screech whined through the rooms until it began to die down, then completely disappear from the setting. Jen shook her head as the the slow ringing sound made itself comfortable in her head. She grasped her radio with shaking hands and struggled to keep the button down.

"Chello? Aaron. Answer now. What's the issue?"

The radio crackled again. She pressed the button again to speak into the radio when the door opposite of her slammed open, Chello dropping into the room with a surprised stare. A burly man stumbled soon after, his closely shaven crew cut managing to look seared.

"We just can't connect to the other side." He said, helping his fallen comrade off the floor. Jen waved off the set-back and gestured for them to sit opposite of her.

"We'll connect when it's time. Now, has the rat infestation been taken care of?" Jen clapped her hands together, waiting eagerly for a response, the ringing in her ears heightening her eagerness. She winced in pain as the lacerations in her shoulder strained under sudden movement.

Aaron nodded his head and chuckled quietly to himself. "That's out of the way now."

Jen nodded in appreciation and laced her fingers together. So far so good, everything was headed as planned.

* * *

"Listen to this." Al said, getting a couple of people to stare at him. He lifted the book closer to him and read off the book.

"There are four pillars that make up the medical field: alchemy, philosophy, astronomy, and ethics. An equal amount of each pillar is said to create a potent strong enough to surpass any illness or injury, fatal or minor. This is false. Although powerful, alchemy is not properly acquainted with medicine; it's creation of Red Water or _Aqua Rubrum_ , was created for the sole purpose of a "healing" feature, but it's power proved to be in reality, vice versa.

"It's destruction has caused many casualties, both intentional and non-intentional. Fertility rates depleted, children among the ages of newly-born to young adolescent succumbed easily to sickness, and then perished shortly after. The elderly and infirm were also unfortunate victims of the power of the Red Water. Physicians who had no understanding of the true nature of Red Water further used this substance on victims, killing them in the process of saving them."

Everyone shared a look with each other, dark thoughts consuming each and every mind in the room. Sandra was still bent over her side of the desk,, fast asleep, but it was most likely she would read the section when she woke up.

"You mean to tell me that someone could have killed two innocent children?" Mustang growled.

"But to what gain?" Falman asked to no-one in particular.

Al raised a hand. "Wait there's more."

"Sadly, after many deaths of innocent people, the true power of Red Water was discovered, banned from any usage of medical or torturous purposes, buried in vaults of knowledge and history -so to speak- and due to it's immense power, was labeled as an incomplete product," Al closed the book and stared up at the rest of the group.

"For a Philosopher's stone."

Mustang's face became ashen, but he didn't say anything.

Havoc stepped forward and placed his arms straight forward. "But the Philosopher's stone doesn't exist. How can-"

Al cut him off. "It said the product was _incomplete._ Either a group, or someone is trying to build up from that, or,"

"It exists." Mustang said.

All eyes turned towards the Colonel. His pale color and strangely calm demeanor unnerved the room's occupants. Only Riza and Hughes stared at Mustang with sympathetic glances.

"I know it exists because I've been given one." Mustang tightly shut his eyes before shifting his head away from the group. "During the Ishvalan Civil War."

Breda slammed a fist onto the table. "Just what the hell is being planned here!?" Sandra shot up from her place at the desk, yelling, "I'm awake!" as Breda slammed his fist. Everyone's attention went from Sandra to Breda as he began to take on a sheepish appearance.

Sandra stared at the desk in front of her in confusion and sleepily and pointed to an empty space in front of her. "I had a book here." She stated simply. The attention was brought to Al as everyone stared at the book he had in his hands.

"Don't look at me!" He started annoyed. "Fuery gave it to me."

Sandra raised a hand to stop the commotion. "It's alright. I was just confused for a sec." A large yawn was extracted from Sandra's tired form and Al tapped the book on his leg. He set the book down, walking towards Sandra.

"Let's get you to a barrack. You look dead on your feet, and it's pretty dark out." Sandra shook her head and stepped away from the younger Elric, confusing some of the others. Undeterred, Sandra wagged a finger at Alphonse and said, "I don't need sleep, I need answers."

As the crew watched in amusement, Alphonse struggled to coax Sandra into going to sleep, to which she only replied with, " _Dejame solo, carajo_." _ **(2)**_

Havoc leaned towards Breda and whispered to him, "Be glad you did that."

Breda turned towards Havoc with a raised eyebrow. "I created a female Chief. What is there to be glad about?"

Havoc shrugged. "Well, maybe the fact that you also created a temporary distraction. The Colonel look about ready to pass out."

Breda glanced at the Colonel who was watching both Sandra and Alphonse banter with each other, his coal black eyes shining in interest when Sandra switched to Spanish. Breda turned back towards Havoc, speaking quietly.

"Let's hope that I don't have to do that again." He said, holding his wrist in his hand. "I almost destroyed this hand."

"Fine! Fine. Okay. _Jesus Christ,_ man." Sandra said exasperatingly. She had woken up a bit more during their banter and had picked up the book laying on the desk. She gestured to Alphonse with the book threateningly. "This is the first and last time you do that. You hear me?" She swept the book towards the desk behind her. "I'm three years older than you, so _para."_

Al didn't seemed the least bit stirred by her threat, and just opened the office door. Sandra walked out with Al, leaving behind the office for the day.

Once he heard their footsteps fade away, Mustang turned towards his team. "So, what do you think?"

* * *

It didn't fit well in her mind at all. Not only did it not make sense, but why would an alchemist like Parraselcus not encrypt his study of Red Water? Better yet, what was her purpose of 'their' plan?

Sandra lay on the bed face down, dressed in an over-sized shirt and boxers, her arms crossed in front of her, one steel, one flesh. She had heard everything Alphonse had to read, ever since Fuery lifted her head to get the book. She had felt her breath tighten as he was reading so she forced herself to breathe easy.

 _'Children among the ages of newly-born to young adolescent succumbed easily to sickness'_

After that, she had listened even closer for more details, waiting for the perfect moment to feign waking up, and she had used their anger to do it. She hid her new golden eyes in shame, feeling badly about what she had done. Casting away her thoughts, she covered her face farther into the pillow, falling asleep very, very slowly.

 ** _(1) Soda's been invented since_** the ** _1770's, so Ed would have more than likely known what soda was, but since I've never seen him drink soda, or ever made a reference to it, I thought to myself 'What if their world didn't have soda?' BOOM. Writing material._**

 ** _(2) "Dejame solo, carajo." means "leave me alone, dammit." Just in case you wanted to know._**

 **Bruh. If writer's block isn't an asshole, I don't know who is. Probably me cause I practically gave Mustang PTSD. I HAVE FINISHED!**

 **If writing this alone wasn't enough, I am packed to the shoulder's with recording for journalism and research papers about genocide and whatnot. Till' next time!**


	8. Chapter 8

Alphonse stepped out of the room, cautiously sending the prone form on the bed a glance, who was completely dwarfed by the covers. He found himself oddly doing that more often than necessary, checking behind himself, hoping to catch the reassuring smile that belonged to his brother, not the confused, unsure stare of a girl not much older than him. With a sigh he turned away, closing the door behind him, following the way towards Mustang's office.

* * *

 _"Sandra."_

Said person stirred in her bed, scrunching her closed eyes tighter in anticipation.

 _"Sandra, can you go get Elise? We're going to leave soon."_

 _"Sure. No problem."_

 _Running up the stairs, a slight touch on the rails and she was up in a flash. A few odd ends to pick up, clothes strewn about on the floor, some papers to straighten on the desk. Farther down the hall, there was a click. Elise, probably starting up the flat-iron or something. A short giggle and a couple steps towards the bathroom door._

 _"Elise come on, we gotta-"_

 _A turn of the head into the room itself._

 _Eyes widen. Something goes off. Loudly. A bang, too subtle, yet too expressive to explain._

 _Time seems to stretch. A sudden flare of pain in both knees signal distress of some kind._

 _Someone's running. It's not her._

 _"Sandra? Sandra!"_

 _She turns towards the same direction. He eyes widen beyond belief as well. She takes slow steps, observing the red that's been painted everywhere. The artist, lying collapsed on the floor, more of her paint spilling across the ground. Her brush, black and sleek, still in her hand._

 _Someone's running again. A phone ringing. Screaming. A tug on the still form by the doorway of the bathroom. No words from the active child._

Sandra shot up from bed, panting deeply. A panicked rush went through her chest and she grabbed at the T-shirt she wore, grimacing. She swung her feet over the bed and sat there, shaking as she relayed the nightmarish memory in her mind. She held her free hand towards her forehead, fiercely wiping away the tears forming around her eyes as a burning sensation filled her nose.

Shaking her head furiously, Sandra stood up from the bed, searching the closets. After placing a towel in her arms, Sandra walked out of the room with no plan in mind except reaching the showers as quickly as possible. She could only hear a roaring sound in her ears as she walked by various soldiers in the hallways passing through, oblivious to their confused stares.

Turning at a door, she found herself inside the showers, which were completely empty. The lights were off and she could barely see through the thick blackness that consumed the room with the small effort aided by night. It didn't matter to her at that point, she was alone and she couldn't wait for the pounding water to clear her head. She walked blindly towards a stall while stripping off the baggy shirt she wore with minimal effort. Grasping the small door of the shower after bumping into it, Sandra shed the last bit of clothing she had before twisting the knobs of the shower.

Instantly, cold water hit her fame, and she sucked in a deep, heaving breath before letting it go slowly, following the rhythm as the cold water turned warm, then hot. She let the water flow past her scalp and over her neck, letting the water trail her profile and into the drain. She focused on the heat, letting her mind trail towards the incident that left her in another world, and a boy who shouldn't exist faking her life as of that moment.

The warmth of the water added to the effect that was just completely tired. The entire ordeal of one day was too much for her, but Sandra then realized that it was the added weight of the days that lead up to her even having to deal with her current issue. She barely registered the change of lighting that occurred in the room before it changed to complete darkness again. Sandra dimly waited for someone to turn on the lights, but it remained dark, and no one uttered a word of arrival. Not even the promise of a footfall was heard beyond Sandra's comfort zone of the shower stall.

Unnerved, Sandra twisted the knobs, effectively turning off the shower, and wrung the excess water from her hair, leaving the quiet pitter patter of water drops to hit the floor. Reaching for the articles of clothing she left on the door of the stall, she dressed quickly, and quietly, straining her ears for any sound. She effectively waited for a few minutes, controlling her breathing and darting her glances around the room. Though her eyes adapted to the darkness, Sandra couldn't see much, dispelling her thoughts of an intruder.

She sighed, and left the stall, trailing watery footprints. Her back turned towards the stall, Sandra felt the same negativity charging the air the same way she had felt it earlier in the day, and she froze in her steps.

"Stop fucking around." She said quietly. Her eyes narrowed in concentration as she focused on the tone of her voice. _It's different again._ She thought. She heard a figure walking behind her and she turned to face the tall figure before her.

Marnoff stood before her, scrutinizing her with narrowed eyes. He smirked and shook his head like a man watching a child stumble around. He chuckled and turned his head to the side, opting to stare at the mirror. "This shower is only specifically for men."

Sandra scowled. So this was how was going to play a game? Sandra knew deep down that Marnoff was just as young as a child in his heart than Edward himself. She glanced at the mirror, prepared to come up with a snarky retort, when she glanced deeper at her distorted reflection. The steam from the heated water settled on most of the mirror, clouding any distinct feature. But just staring at the mirror without deep concentration already show that there was something wrong. Staring at her reflection from the side, Sandra could see that her right arm in the mirror wasn't silver. Her hair color was brown, and most noticeably, she had a bust.

Slowly walking toward the mirror, Sandra felt a cold weight manifest itself by her gut, residing there for her to constantly acknowledge. She wiped away the film of chilled steam from the mirror, staring at her own reflection. Gone was the golden strands that surrounded her face, replaced by her brown hair, limp and clumped together with wet chilling water. She was back. She had her body back, but she wasn't home. Did that mean...?

Sandra darted for the door of the bathroom, only to be blocked by Marnoff's bulky form. She stepped to the side, only for the mimicking man to follow in her steps. Sandra scoffed. Was he going to get any more weirder?

"I'm afraid I can't let you leave." _Never mind._ Sandra swished her arms from side to side, looking for an opening. All it took for the door to open was a pull, so running there shouldn't be that bad of an issue. Unless Marnoff had her running for a constant amount of time, _then_ there would be a problem. She stepped backwards, Marnoff following her steps carefully. While he stepped, Sandra twisted around his right, dodging his fist and shooting for the door. The though of freedom was whisked away as she was hoisted into the air and slammed into the wall behind her.

Sandra's sight exploded into massive colors and she became disoriented enough to forget her surroundings, only realizing too late the large hand that belonged to Marnoff close around her neck. She struggled to breathe, forcing her head as far back as possible and holding Marnoff's arm with both hands. Nothing seemed to work. Her vision blackened slowly, she felt fire searing through her lungs and neck. A sickened dry gasp was drawn from her throat. Twisting violently, she kicked wildly, aiming for any solid limb or part of Marnoff to make him loosen his grasp or let go.

She felt her foot connect to some part of his face, and he let out a surprised grunt, dropping Sandra to the floor. Angrily wiping at her eyes, she stumbled for the door, throwing it open, and breaking off into the fastest run she had ever been in her entire life. One hand guarding her neck, she pumped the other forcefully with the pattern of her feet. She ran towards different corners, twisting and turning in a desperate panic to lose her attacker. She aimed for one direction, blind on reaching the safefty of the office.

* * *

Alphonse stood up, pondering over the the day's events. A meeting with an old man that was in fact younger than that age, was from the same world Sandra was in. Coincidentally, she was able to speak _and_ carry conversation with him, causing her to gain more information than they already had. Then the day's readings. Red Water, human experimentation, and innocent deaths. If his soul could shudder, that would be that moment.

His soul would've shattered when a teenage girl came bursting in the office too, but that didn't stop him from screaming in shock. Her brown hair was wet, her eyes puffy from crying. She grabbed at her throat with a protective grip, and her eyes only spoke one thing. _Help me._

After reading her eyes, Al didn't hesitate to open up the front of his armor to let her inside, especially how he heard the way someone else was walking towards the office with an expectant air. She jumped in, not hesitant despite the fact a lack of a body in the armor. Once in, he clasped the front at lightning speed, and he could see from the others that he had a valid concern. At the last clasp, the Second Lieutenant Marnoff walked in, and Al could feel from the vibrations of the interior of his armor that the girl had tensed.

"Did any of you see a teenage girl pass through here?" Marnoff asked. He peered throughout the room, searching for any telltale signs of an adolescent female. Mustang shook his head.

"Not that I know of." Mustang replied with an icy stare. Marnoff caught the silent message and they stared at each other, daring the other to make a move before the latter waved his hand dismissively and walked out of the office, saying, "I guess not. You're too old for that." After a few antagonizing minutes of waiting for the footsteps to fade away, Alphonse removed the clasps of the front of his armor, revealing the fear-paralyzed form inside.

With shaking hands, she pulled herself out, aided by Breda and Falman. Once out, she snaked a hand towards her neck, leaving it there. Alphonse stared at the clothing of the girl standing before him, realizing in a flash that Sandra had put them on before going to bed. But she wasn't in Edward's body.

"Sandra?"

The room half tensed, half let out a surprised gasp. The girl nodded. "Yeah, Al. It's me."

The attention drawn to Sandra was now at her neck, which she kept pawing at continually. Mustang gave her a stern stare. "Sandra. Turn and face me."

Slowly turning, as to not chafe her neck, Sandra faced her direction to Mustang. "Remove your hand."

Sandra complied, slowly removing her right hand from her neck, and Mustang glanced away, placing a palm to his mouth. Riza gasped. "Falman, can you look at this?"

Falman turned to face Sandra, noticing the bruise on her neck taking an angry purple color. The entire bruise was laced around her neck, a brace, colored with her own flesh. He frowned. "Not permanent, but not short-timed. It needs ice."

Nodding, Mustang took a form off his desk, and began scribbling furiously on it, his intent clear.

"You shouldn't." Sandra said quietly. Mustang stopped writing and stared at her in confusion. The entire room stared at her in concern, and an equal amount of surprise for stopping a court-martial. Sandra flicked her hands.

"It's most likely... it's most likely Marnoff works for those guys."

"What 'guys?'" Mustang pressured. "Look at what he did to you!"

Sandra stepped forwards and whisked her hands to the window. "The guy's who did all this. Shove souls into different bodies, trick them! Like hell I know what they want, but for straight I know they want me dead. For all we know, someone might be trying to kill Edward."

* * *

Edward woke up coughing and sputtering for breath. He didn't know if he accidentally choked on his saliva in his sleep or something else, but he knew it felt like someone was choking him from the inside out. He stepped off the bed in Sandra's room, walking around a quick corner to the bathroom.

He filled a spare cup of water to clear his throat, taking a sip in front of the big mirror. His eyes caught his reflection. He took another sip of his water feeling that he was missing something, but he couldn't find out what it was. Looking back at his reflection, Ed instantly imagined his blond hair flash brown and back, in his mind's eye. His eyes widened and he choked on the water he had in his mouth, realizing that he was no longer in Sandra's body.

"What the...fuck?" He said in between coughs. The sound of coughing drew attention from downstairs, where Sandra's mother was sitting. Ed heard the television screen go off, and footsteps coming towards his direction, leading towards the stairs. Ed thew the rest of the water out of the cup and placed it clumsily on the counter, running as fast as he could, quietly to Sandra's bed.

Just as Sandra's mother reached the top of the stairs, Ed threw the covers over himself. _Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease, don't come in, don't come in._

The door creaked. _Fuck!_

Ed stayed silent, listening carefully as Sandra's mother made her way towards him, sitting to his left and placing her hand to his back, awfully close to his right automail port. He felt her hand pat him on the back for a couple of seconds before a kiss was planted on his head through the covers. Edward felt his cheeks flame hot a second time that night, both in embarrassment and the fear of being caught.

Sandra's mother pulled away, standing up from her place on the bed and walking out of the room, wishing her daughter a very peaceful night of rest. Ed sat up in bed after she left the room.

He had to be the luckiest bastard alive to escape in plain sight.

* * *

 **Thank you dear sister for lending me your laptop for a few consecutive hours *checks time* SEVEN HOURS**

 **I feel so alive man, whooo! I need sleep. Honestly, I owe my sister a big one for letting me use her laptop, pleease, leave a review. Please.**

 **(seriously though, I need sleep)**

 **Bye**


	9. Chapter 9

Sandra and Al walked around the town, searching for the familiar shop by a certain corner where they had met the old man eager to give any answer given in Spanish. Sandra was back in Ed's body, a confirmation in most of her theory that she had given to the rest of the team the night before. Her fingers twitched, an excited chill running through her body as she looked from window to window down the street.

"Where is he?" She wondered aloud.

~~~~~~~ The Night Before ~~~~~~~

"How do you suppose this happened?" Mustang asked, gesturing towards Sandra while staring at her. Sandra made a swatting motion with her hands and scowled.

"Stop staring at me like that. And as for this," she said, looking down at herself, "I don't know."

Mustang sighed and leaned back in his chair, forcing himself to relax in his swivel chair. After doing so, he tensed up again, irritated by the setback. He tapped on the papers on his desk, drumming a beat on the lists of Alphonse and Sandra's. Mustang noticed that his angry tapping had drawn the attention of Sandra, who had put a hand over her mouth in a concentrative gesture, her brows furrowed.

She peered past the tapping fingers, and onto the pages themselves, staring at the writing on the pages for an inkling of an idea. Her brows furrowed even more, and then widened in surprise. She put her hand over her face, shadowing any feature on her face that Mustang wold have been able to see.

"Al?" She sighed. "Was there any Red water left after Ed and I switched bodies, on the train?"

Alphonse shifted, tilting his helmet on a confused manner. He didn't know what that had to do with the random switch at night. Nonetheless, he remembered that after the woman and the others left, he had knelt down to get Ed and looked around desperately, far too focused on his brother that he had barely glanced at the last remnants of a clear red substance on the ground beside him.

"Yeah, there was. By the seats."

Sandra remained silent, her hand still guarding her face. Slowly, her hand slid downwards, cupping her chin. Mustang looked at her former cozy-fired eyes and noticed that they took on a more fiery manner, ready to consume any form of obstacle with a steady flame. She chuckled.

"This makes a lot more sense now."

"What does?" asked Havoc. Sandra turned to face him and gestured towards herself. "This does! The... the completely random switch at night. It shouldn't happen, but it did. Guess why." Sandra glanced around the room, opening the question for anyone in the room. Havoc stared across the room, mimicking the same wave of of blank confusion on everyone's face except Sandra's.

"Fuck logic?" He asked. Sandra whirled around and snapped a finger at him. "Bingo."

Havoc's eyes widened in disbelief. The office was sent into a shocked silence and quite a few eyebrows were raised in doubt. Had Sandra finally cracked?

In her defense, she raised her hands side by side. Her eyes twinkled in with anticipation as she asked, "Can any of you explain why- or how more likely, Ed and I were able to switch bodies in a flash?"

Mustang stared at Sandra's hands, both palms facing each other. He watched her twitching fingers in understanding, he too remembered the thrill of a discovery, an electric tingle that raced from the nape of the neck down the spine and through the fingers, though Mustang couldn't say that he felt the same way. How _could_ Sandra and Ed switch? Sandra said it herself, there was no way their world had existed but as a means of entertainment. A story created by one person, loved by many, and spoken by many as well. How could a figment of imagination tap into reality?

"What does that have to do with the remnants of Red water that was left after the incident?" Al asked. Sandra pointed towards the papers on Mustang's desk, as if saying that all the answers were on that flat piece of mahogany wood.

"I was tackled." She said abruptly, an unexplained statement that only Alphonse apparently understood, his soul-fired eyes glowing brighter, with a short gasp escaping his armor in a small echo.

"Then the reaction was cut off!" Al yelled. He began to pace, picking up the energetic excitement coming from Sandra. He mumbled to himself, counting on his fingers, relaying everything that happened before and after the train incident in his mind, a frenzied race for memory.

"Which means I'm a defect." Sandra finished. She strutted around the office with a giddy attitude, her mood keeping her on her toes. "This is almost as good as it gets." She muttered.

The rest of the others glanced at each other, sure of themselves that Sandra had missed the true meaning of being a failed experiment, so to speak. Wait a minute...

Roy snapped, causing the rest of the room to flinch in concern, rising cautiously when no trail of flame flew through the room. "So that means they can't get to you, am I correct?" He asked, oblivious of their confusion.

Sandra raised a palm in rebuttal. "No, they can still get to me, but they didn't necessarily succeed either." She said, her other hand absentmindedly rubbing her still sore neck. "If I'm here, that means Ed's there. In _my_ world. In our own respective bodies."

"But how's that possible?" Havoc asked, checking his watch. He blinked in surprise while watching the hands tick by.

Sandra smiled, the first one Mustang could even register as one. It seemed... forced, but before he could question it, the smile faded away.

"Let's add the fact that Ed and I are defects. This is going to sound far fetched, but listen."

And she told them. Her theory that since the process hadn't been complete, traces of their personality, feelings, their individual _souls_ were mixed, a tangled mess that needed to be fixed in order for the switching to stop. The matter of fixture was one of two options: complete the operation, or reverse it. If no option was taken, they would continue inhabiting each other's bodies, but no proper bond would hold because both souls were mixed towards a state of confusion, and what better way to add more confusion than the very prospect of night. A time where one's state of mind is muddled, almost an amnesiatic sense of direction and placement, a perfect moment for a quick switch from the unsuspecting souls.

Still, her theory was met with a wave of uncertainty. The uncertainty was slightly dismissed as the evident sound of footfalls echoed up to the doors. The mini crowd in the room held a silent breath, hoping that the footfalls didn't belong to a lone passerby. The steps came closer, and Sandra could hear the excellent breathing control from the rest of the soldiers, while she herself felt suffocated.

The doors opened, and the air stuck in her throat hitched.

The figure walking through the doors was revealed to be none other than Falman, holding a rather bulky package of both cloth and ice, and everyone released their bated breaths and relaxed.

Falman walked calmly towards Sandra and held out the cold package towards her, which she took with eager hands. She slapped the cloth against her neck in an instant, her eyes fluttering with the chilled satisfaction of the ice cloths medicinal traits. She noticed that once she closed her eyes, she felt even more fatigued, both the day's and night's activities draining her.

That or the hospital back home had pumped her body full of drugs.

~~~~~~~ Present ~~~~~~~

"What do you mean he's not here?!" Sandra yelled at the shop keeper.

"Sorry, son. But when a nurse came to get him with an order he had to go." The man defended.

When he had opened the shop just minutes before, Sandra and Al had asked him where Daniel had been seen last (though they didn't use his real name), and the man answered that he had been taken away only a few hours _after_ the day before. By his tone, he was practically relieved that Daniel was gone, Sandra wanted to slap the shopkeeper senseless. She had barely reigned in her anger and disappointment to be able to spit out her question.

"How many nurses were there?"

"Just one. 'Bout my height, dusty blonde. Though he looked more like a soldier than a nurse to honest, pretty buff for a skinny guy."

Alphonse put a gauntlet on Sandra's shoulder, her hunched shoulders loosening themselves slightly. He could already tell she wanted to hurt the middle aged man behind the counter. It was pretty obvious that he didn't notice the malice dripping Sandra's or the fact that she could barely be restrained with a calming hand. Al was almost tempted to release Sandra on him.

Somehow he could tell Sandra would be able to scare the man into caring.

Sandra clicked her tongue and stepped around Alphonse, jamming her hands inside the pockets of Ed's pants and stormed out of the stifling building, a dark scowl marred across her face. As he followed her, Al could hear the unpleasant swears and insults she muttered under her breath. _This_ was not a side of her he would like to see again.

A half hour walk and mini rant later, they were at the foot of _Amestris House of the Unwell_ thanks to the kind direction of an elderly lady that had a relative there.

"Can you please tell Lillith that I've haven't got the strength to visit?" She had asked slowly, her whispery voice shaking with a small tremor.

Walking up the steps, Sandra's anger turned slowly in anxiety. What if she slipped up? What if they thought she was crazy? What if they were working for the "bad guy's"? It wasn't until she reached the front doors when she started to rationalize her thoughts, loosening her grip on the rough sketch in her hand. The shopkeeper didn't give enough details for her create a proper profile.

There was a woman sitting by the front desk, and she had a small wondering smile on her face. She was busy speaking to a young man holding a clipboard tightly, his knuckles white. She carefully pried it away from him, with soothing tones, and she take a small leave of her chair to sit the man down.

Sandra took a liking to her.

The woman sat back in front of her desk and smiled widely at the both of them, brushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "Are you visiting a relative? Or is there a more," she dropped her voice lower. "Serious matter?"

Sandra nodded her head and passed the rough sketch onto her. She took it with a smile and examined it carefully, her bright eyes narrowing slightly. "Is this man... a patient here?" She asked slowly.

"No." Sandra and Al shared a look. "We were told that he works here. This man found an elderly tourist believing he was insane, speaking a different language and all that."

The nurse looked up with concern and slapped the rough sketch onto the automail hand, so fast she didn't register the steel appendage.

"I know everyone in this building." She whispered with wide eyes. "I've never seen this man before in my life."

* * *

It had been at least a few hours in Sandra's room, and Ed still didn't know that much about her. Which led him to, guiltily, search her room for any new information that he could find. He did though, limit himself from her personal drawers containing articles of clothing. Just the thought of it made Edward's cheeks flame hotly.

But still, he tread on, his eagerness for answers rising after he discovered a large angry bruise on his neck, once he woke up back in Sandra's body. Still, he found nothing of the sort to help him learn about Sandra.

The best he could do after a while of unfruitful searching, was clean up the room as much as possible. The saxophone was propped inside it's case, the cluttered desk was cleared,and the floor had been mopped, which shined with a sleek brown when the sunlight splashing through it like honey on molasses.

He sighed and stepped back, putting his hands on his hips, surveying the room. It looked fantastic, even the walls looked less depressing now that there was sunlight present. He patted his hands together to dislodge any dust and walked out into the hallway, dragging the bucket of scented water with him. The scraping of the bucket drew his attention away from the room, and back to his thoughts. He needed to know more about America, more about her _world_.

If only he could actually get his hands on some information.

Dunking the remnants of the mop water down the bathtub drain, Ed watched the murky water flow away with blank eyes. He was watching the water, but at the same time his thoughts were somewhere else, back home. He felt his insides curl with sadness and he realized he was homesick. His nose burned with the thought of Alphonse being alone and unknowing of his condition.

He sighed again. _'Pensamientos son malo'_ He thought. Edward stood straighter in shock and looked around the bathroom to make sure that no one had whispered into his ears. With no one around, Ed was left to himself, he had thought that phrase without learning any language. He doubted that sentence in his head was even a remote language.

He ran into Sandra's bedroom, grabbing her phone and tapping furiously into the phone.

G-o-o-g-l-e

He clicked at the suggestion "translation" and tapped into the phone, shocking himself further when he typed the message in his head with clear understanding. The detection was Spanish, it _was_ a language, he had thought, and he read the translation: _Thoughts are bad_. Ed dropped the phone onto the bed, and sat slowly beside it. He had counselled himself in a different language, as if he had known it by heart.

He stared at his hands, both flesh, both that didn't belong to him, belonged to a _girl_ , and he felt like a freak of nature. A mess. He put his head in his hands and glared at the floor in hot anger as if it caused his troubles. His vision unfocused, and he blinked, causing his anger to flare hotter when he saw tears hit the floor. "Dammit." He whispered. Had he no control of his emotions either?

He rubbed at his eyes, and stood up in defiance. He was _not_ going to sit there and cry. He didn't deserve to. If Al couldn't do that much, then Ed wouldn't either until he had finally retrieved his body.

He walked downstairs, aiming for the kitchen sink. It did have the coldest water in the entire house. He had barely turned the corner when he heard Sandra's mother speaking from the living room, and he walked towards that direction instead.

"- you, she's changed. Ever since that accident at the cemetery."

Edward stopped. He hid behind the wall by the stair's banister, trying to hear the conversation.

"Yes. No. Just listen for a seco- will you please-" Sandra's mother paused, Ed could tell she was annoyed before her huffed breath. Suddenly she yelled at the phone, and Edward flinched behind the wall.

"Don't you dare speak of her that way!" She exclaimed. "She's more lively, more expressive, more active ever since the suicide!"

Edward slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent the gasp escape from him. He didn't register the silence in the living room, Sandra's mother sat in sudden dispair, her breathing had become harsher, and it hitched occasionally.

"You have no idea, _no idea,_ how broken she was after she witnessed everything." She sobbed into the phone.

 _Witnessed...witnessed_

Ed slid from the wall and sat on the cold floor. He shivered, from the shock or the cold contact he honestly didn't know.

It fit. Very horribly it had all fit. Elise had used a gun on herself, Sandra watching with wide eyes.

Was it a last minute trigger? Was Sandra trying to plead?

His stomach gave a lurch, and he ran as fast he could up the stairs, thankfully they were carpeted. He blankly wandered back into Sandra's room, now understanding in full circle why she kept it so dark. He numbly walked to a random wall and slid down it as well, trying desperately trying to control his breathing.

 _'Witnessed...witnessed'_ rang in his mind. He shook his head, the force of his movement making the panel give way behind him. He fell back with a stifled scream, he didn't want to alert Sandra's mother, she was distressed enough already. He groaned as he kneeled in the secret space behind, he was shaking so hard he shook a small makeshift table inside.

He crawled inside, taking in his surrounding enough to comment on the beauty as he realized it was a small study room. Perhaps created by Sandra. Small journals were everywhere, containing dates that lead from years before, to a more recent time. He opened a small black journal, the date read four days before.

 _The night before the accident._

He tried to read the inscription on the journal and saw the words were so scrabbled he couldn't read, they were in some code. He closed the book with a snap as he realized that he was holding Sandra's diary. He would be in hot water if Al could see him now.

Edward placed the book back on the makeshift shelf on the wall, and glanced above the front the desk. There was a cork board, covered in pictures, news clippings, sticky notes, and just about anything written on paper was on it. Ed crawled closer to it, squatting awkwardly so as not to hit the ceiling. There was a cold draft in the small room, and Ed didn't like where it was flowing.

Frankly, he didn't like cold weather, especially when it was on his neck. It made him shiver more than he would like. Rubbing the back of his neck, Ed sat in front of the desk, shuffling the mess of clippings on the table for a decent report to read, Some caught his eye, some didn't. He was close to examining the cork board when he felt his skin go cold.

A clipping was covered by few papers and he only read a few words.

 _-ing. Occupants presumed dead. Search continues._

Ed pushed the rest of the papers away, grabbing the slip of paper and scuttling as quickly as he could towards Sandra's room again. He plopped onto her bed, reading the paper with narrowed eyes.

 _American Plane Missing. Occupants presumed_  
 _Dead. Search Continues._

 _June 26, 2013_

 _Families are distraught as the search for plane N-63521 continues without much hope.  
Shortly after taking off, officials say all contact was cut from the tower, preventing the employees from tracking the plane.  
Witnesses also say when stocking the carrier, very strange incidents began to occur._

 _"Things would disappear." Said Kadence Caz. "I would put a suitcase down, and when I would go back  
to put more stuff, it'd be gone."_

 _Another employee was reporting a sparking red glow, though he a first believed it had been some of the lights  
from the plane. "But," He said. "Something smelled wrong. A lot of copper. The plane usually smells  
like luggage, you know, leather, cloth and plastic stuff."_

Edward sat stiffly on the bed, listening carefully, keeping his eyes on the door. He then ran from the foot of his bed and hurriedly stuffed the clipping under Sandra's pillow, just as Sandra's mother walked through the door. He sat by the pillow, blocking the small corner that was still visible. Sandra's mother sat by him quickly.

"Honey." She sighed. "I know these last few ears have been hard on you, but,"

Ed took a deep breath in, waiting for the worst to come out of the woman's mouth.

"Ever since what happened at the cemetery, you... changed. Is there something wrong?"

Edward started, waving his hands around and blushing fiercely. ' _Damn emotions'_ "I'm fine mom, honest." Wrong answer. "Mom" narrowed her own eyes, and she stared down at Ed with something akin to suspicion.

"Pequeño." She whispered.

Ed felt his grip on her hand tighten, and let go of it, not realizing that he had done so. His cheeks burned brighter, and he began to scowl, which somehow appeased her suspicion. She bent her head lower, kissing Edward on the forehead.

"You know I love you honey, I'm just teasing." She stood up from the bed and rubbed at her face, shielding her puffy eyes. "Boy, I'm beat. I'm going to nap on the couch." She strolled out the room, sashaying in a tauntingly way, almost making Edward scream in anger. After he heard her steps fade into the living room, he grabbed at the pillow hiding the news clipping, screaming as shrilly as he could into the pillow. He didn't care, he needed to vent his frustration.

 _'SHE FUCKING CALLED ME SHORT!'_ He yelled in his mind.

* * *

 **Laughing. I'm laughing. Aww man, that felt good. Thanks for reading, I hope you can leave a review and that this chappie answered any question you had. (Looking at you Lilly)**

 **Wow, like wow. My family dodged a bullet couple days ago. We thought we had to move out, and my mom could find a decent place so we were really frightened for a second. Then at the end of January the landlord said we could stay.**

 **That mole, she almost gave me an asthma attack.**

 **I will write as fast as possible so I can update at a better pace but I'm not promising anything, so**

 **CHOW! _**


	10. Chapter 9 and a half

**It's the same short, I'm sorry. But I needed to inform you guys. Please check my profile and read my notes under the asterisks. If you have any questions or concerns, leave a message in my inbox.**

* * *

After a few minutes of searching, Sandra found a vacant phone booth outside a small open pub. Hearty laughter was pouring out of it's open doors and Sandra could hear rustling and bumping of more than just chairs. She turned to Alphonse, who was beginning to peer inside the pub suspiciously.

"Hey, Al? What's Mustang's number?"

Alphonse turned. "Huh, what?"

Sandra waved the phone with emphasis, and Alphonse in turn began reeling off the number to Mustang's direct office. After dialing the number, and listening to the first few rings, a rustled man stumbled out of the pub, laughing loudly and coughing. His crew cut was messy though it was short and his glazed eyes scanned the area around him, settling on both of the figures standing by the pay phone.

 _"Hello?"_

A woman picked up the phone, most likely the operator.

Sandra turned back to the phone. "Can you connect me to Colonel Roy Mustang, please?"

 _"Name and code please?"_ The woman asked politely.

Looking back at Alphonse, she mouthed, ' _help me,'_ and went back to the phone, "Can you hold on for a sec, ok thank you."

Staring at the drunk man (who began calling someone inside), Al reeled off Ed's code to Sandra -which he had memorized in case Ed ever forgot- and watched silently as she repeated it to the operator. She stood still by the phone until she turned back with an empty smile. "Ok." She said. "Thank you."

The sound of crackling was subtle as she was placed on hold, mostly leaving Sandra in silence. After a few meager seconds, there was click, and then, _"Hello?"_

"Hey Mustang." Sandra sighed. She pinched the bridge of her nose and looked down at the ground.

 _"What happened, Ed?"_

Sandra chuckled. Clever man.

"He's not there."

 _"Then come back, you can find him lat-"_

"Someone got him Mustang."

There was no response, just a muffled groan from the other side of the phone and creaking as Mustang leaned back in his chair. _"Fucking great."_

"There's more to it though. It was basically planned from start to finish, my guess it's the same people who-"

 _"Fullmetal, I want you back in the office immediately."_

Sandra staggered. "What, n-no. I _can't_ , he's sti-"

 _"NOW, Ed. No room for discussion."_

Sandra stood in silence, at a stalemate with herself. Should she disobey or listen? It's not like Mustang understood what she was going through. The guilt, the anger, the _fear_ that she could be next. It just kept coming across her mind that she lead them straight to Daniel, damn it, it was all her fault.

 _"Fullmetal."_ Mustang pressed.

Sandra scoffed into the phone, "Just shut up."

Slamming on the receiver with a simmering attitude, Sandra walked passed Alphonse briskly. "Let's go."

Following closely behind, Al asked her, "Where?" Just as the drunk patron shouted "Happy Hanukkah!" waving around a bottle that was probably concealed in his jacket.

Sandra kept walking. "Let's _go_."

* * *

"She's not your subordinate, Colonel." Hawkeye said calmly. Mustang looked up at her with a small scowl.

"I know she's not, but it's not like I could talk to her by her real name through the -"

"That's not what I meant, Sir."

Looking up at the rest of the group, he watched them silently agree with Hawkeye, either nodding their heads or blinking away from his gaze.

Breda closed a pamphlet.

"She may be sixteen, but it's not like she's had the same type of deal Edward has."

"Yeah boss, go easy on her." Havoc added. "She's not exactly comfortable with the military."

Mustang sighed. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Uhmm, _not_ snap at her?" Havoc asked sarcastically.

Feury tilted his head. "If I remember correctly, she's not really comfortable with confrontation either, like that time about her being left handed and all."

"Meaning she's a bit fragile." Falman nodded. He gestured to Feury. "How's that 'talk' about being left handed going, by the way?"

Feury shrugged. "She hasn't told me anything yet."

Mustang clapped his hands together. "Well, you're just going to have to wait until she comes back."

The others went back to their work, mumbling.

* * *

Watching the blond and the armored boy leave, Aaron drank the rest of his beer slowly, savoring it's crisp taste of artificial lime and toasted barley. Tossing the empty bottle in a nearby trash can, he walked away towards the direction of the edge of town, where the abandoned factories lay.

He chuckled as he put his hands in his pockets, shuffling the stray pieces of paper inside. He pulled few out, and easily picked out one with a few scrawlings inside. He continued walking, searching through streets for an abandoned phone booth, deciding each one he found was far too close to the pub he had left.

After walking for five minutes, Aaron decided he was well away from the bar, and picked a stray straggler from the street.

"You know where I can find a pay phone?" He asked.

The man pointed a bony finger to a corner and sighed. "Tere..." He whispered.

Not bothering to thank the useful patron ("Basturd" The man muttered.), Aaron made his way to the pointed phone and tapped in the number on his scrap of paper.

Three rings.

"I hope you've got info?"

"Definitely. I'll meet you at our usual spot. You're gonna enjoy this."

"Hmm."

* * *

Sandra's anger cooled as she walked up the steps of the Central Command center, apologizing to Alphonse for her behavior on the way back, snapping at him and walking in silence.

"It's okay Sandra, your just upset."

Sandra sighed slowly and looked towards the ground, a sure sign she felt guilty. "But I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you, Al."

Walking up the the office, Sandra walked directly through the doorway and towards the couch, where she slouched down, trying to hide her face.

"Sandra?" Mustang queried. Sandra drew herself closer to the couches frame.

"Leave me alone." She said. "Everything's bad enough as it is."

Havoc chuckled. "You're so horrible with children, Colonel."

Before Mustang could retort with his own answer, Sandra turned around to face Havoc. "You're not so great with women either, hotshot."

Breda, who had replaced his cup of water, choked again.

Aside from his coughing, everyone stared at Sandra and her simmering attitude, which diffused quickly under their stares.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It's just..." She threw her head onto the couch. "This day is so horrible." Was heard, muffled through the fabric. She laced her arms behind her head and sighed.

"We'll find him." Al said.

Sandra looked up from the couch, her face flushed. She stared at the room for a bit before slinking back onto the couch, crossing her arms and continued to stare at the floor. "Sure."

Sandra sat on the couch for a few minutes while Al continued to relay their events, laying out the rough sketch of the man that had Sandra had drawn.

"The woman at the clinic said he looked military." Al said, making Sandra perk up. She sat up from slouching with a concentrated stare. She blinked.

"Hand me that?"

Al walked briskly over to Sandra, handing the paper over with a cautious glance.

She took it carefully, as if it was made out of fragile material. She looked at the picture for a while, her expression unreadable. With a frown, she sighed and placed the paper back in Al's hand.

She stood up, walking towards the doors of the office.

"Where are you going?" Mustang asked.

Sandra shrugged. "I need to sleep this off. Today really fucked me over."

Maybe it was the way she slumped, maybe it was the sound of abandoned hope in her voice, maybe it was something else, but Mustang and the others let her walk away, deciding it was best for her to leave.

* * *

 ***Starts running***

 **I didn't do jack squat okay!? I didn't want to end this chapter like this okay!?**

 **Alright. *Dodges book* I'm sorry for making this chapter so short, but be appeased. It's _something._**

 **Welcome to the Salty Spatoon, how salty are ya?**

 **Sandra's probably the most salty out of all of us.**

 ***Dodges knife***

 **It's a joke!**

 **I'll try to update faster, but promise nothing**


	11. Chapter 10

Sandra didn't bother removing Ed's boots, or even his jacket as she landed face first on the bed, rolling as far as she could to face the wall.

She felt awful.

Guilty mostly, among the swirling feelings of anger, disappointment and sadness. It was all her fault.

They hadn't done anything to him, _nothing_.

But when Sandra proved to the people that he was perfectly available for communication, he was a threat, a crack in the system. So they took him, whoever they were. Sandra had little to no doubt that it was the homunculi, preferably Envy that had taken the old man.

Sandra burrowed her head into a pillow. She didn't even know if he was actually old or not. All he spoke of was a small family he wished to return to, and that was it. No requests, no pity, no background knowledge. Just a sad urge to go home. And now he was gone.

Sandra pretty much sure it was her fault. She should've seen it when she first met him. _'You led him to his death most likely. Because you're just a fucking dumbass.'_

Sandra groaned and curled tighter into bed. "Shut up inner me."

 _'No.'_

Snorting, Sandra ruffled her hair roughly and scowled at the ceiling. She hated the situation she was in. She hated being stuck in someone else's body, and she hated being separated from the only person that could've stood by her side the entire time.

Sandra felt like screaming when her inner voice spoke again. ' _I'm sorry mom. I miss you.'_

* * *

Ed's morning did not go well. After waking up with a sore throat and checking the mirror, the barely half girlish scream that came from his throat almost sent Sandra's mother's dishes flying.

"Is everything alright?" She yelled from the kitchen.

Ed scrambled for an excuse. "Fine! I just..." He pointed to the bruise in his reflection accusingly. " _Whhyy_?" He hissed to it.

Sandra's mother called again. "Sandra Lawrence, what happened?"

Edward felt himself flinch from her stern words. "I-I-I-I stubbed my toe against the sink!" He yelled back. He threw his hands in the air and added, "Damn it!" for emphasis.

Sandra's mother still seemed skeptical. "Are you sure?"

Ed groaned. "Yes, mom!" After a moment's pause, Ed heard the sound's he wanted to hear.

"Well, alright."

Abandoning the bathroom by his room, Ed poured through Sandra's closet, searching for a shirt or sweater long enough to cover up his neck.

Tank top through tee shirt, Ed couldn't find a suitable article of clothing until he sifted through the cabinets in her room. A baggy blue sweater sat by a small box in a corner, and Ed picked it up.

Switching clothes, Ed walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, sat stiffly in front of the breakfast table, and glued a small cheesy smile in place. "Morning." He said softly. "Mom." He added quickly.

Sandra's mother added a few eggs into a steaming pan. "Well good morning, miss Opera singer." She turned to face him, and stepped back when she saw the sweater. "Woah, who told you that we'd be having an ice-age?" She said.

Ed scoffed. "I felt like wearing it."

"But it's _summer_."

"It was," Ed stopped. "Cold in my room?" He shrugged.

Sandra's mother rolled her eyes and turned back to the stove. "Would you like the "Standard American" or my style?"

Ed blinked in confusion. "Uh, what?" "You know, eggs, sausage and bacon. Or my pancakes, whatever you want."

Edward chuckled awkwardly. "I'll let you do the choosing."

Sandra's mother sighed. "Alright. Oh!" She left the stove after a quick fluffing of the eggs, and walked over to a hoisted cabinet. She reached inside and pulled out a white paper bag, fishing out a pill bottle from inside. She opened it and passed a small circular pill to him. "Here." She said.

Ed picked up the pill and turned it over on it's side. "And this is...?"

"It's Cortef. Your doctor prescribed it as a type of anti shock medication." She replied while scraping the fluffy eggs onto separate plates. "Twice a day, with or without food."

Ed smiled. "Oh, so _that's_ why you're cooking me a five star breakfast."

Sandra's mother laughed, the same bubbly sound that he'd heard in the hospital. The carefree laughter brought Ed into another state of homesickness. Is that how his mother had sounded like when she laughed? How she held herself? Ed struggled to find a memory but could only remember subtle things, like pictures.

Smiles.

Tears.

"Sweetie? What's wrong?"

Ed jumped at the random question. "I, uh. I'm fine." He stammered. Ed pouted when her concern melted into a frown. "Honestly." He huffed at her.

Sandra's mother raised a finger at Ed. "Don't you act sassy with me. Now what's bothering you?"

Ed felt his arm twitch, presumably an instinctive move to protect his neck, but he managed to keep his hand on his lap. "I uhh, um." He looked around, looking for a distraction. His eyes landed on the pan.

"You're gonna burn the eggs." He said lamely.

Sandra's mother turned back to the stove, albeit staring at Ed with narrowed eyes. "I'm watchin' you."

A few minutes later, Ed was picking at the remnants of his plate, barely touching the last bit of pancake sitting on the side of a few puffs of egg. The pill sat beside his glass of water, almost threatening to remind him of hospitals. In disgust, he put the fork down and put the pill in his mouth, drinking more water than necessary to down it.

He would rather get over it than keep looking at the damn thing for another few minutes. He picked up his plate and cup, emptied the last bits of food in the trash, and put the kitchenware in the sink. Patting his hands together, he made his way back to his room.

"Sandra!" Yelled a voice.

Ed looked back, facing where the sound came originated. It was from outside, so he left the foot of the stairs he was about to climb and walked to the front door. Unlocking it, he opened the door, but found no one outside, just a vivid green lawn and neighboring houses.

He shrugged, closed the door, and began making his way upstairs.

"God damn it Sandra! Hurry up!"

"Hurry up my ass." He muttered. He walked into his room and flopped onto the bed, closing his eyes.

"Oh, so you're just gonna ignore me like that. Okay hoe."

Ed jumped. The sound _was_ from outside, just outside his _window_.

He turned to find a girl about Sandra's age, a bit thinner, with the greenest eyes he had ever seen. She rolled her eyes at him.

"It's a miracle! The bitch can hear!"

Ed frowned. "Fuck you." He hissed at her.

"How hard?" She shot back.

Ed stammered for an answer, and blushed. That response was completely unprecedented, let alone extremely vulgar. He crossed his arms. "What do you want?" He asked.

The girl tapped the window. "Well for starters, you can open this window so we can hang."

"Hang _what_?"

"Hang _out_." She replied in the same tone.

Ed felt conflicted. He wanted to punch the chick straight off the edge of the window, but then he also wanted to let her in. Something told him that her overly edgy act was just that, an act. A playful tease.

He sidled over and opened the window, and the mysterious girl bent down.

Ed immediately assumed the worse and slackened his stance, ready to knock the sassy bitch right off her toes, but when she reached over and vaulted what looked like bags of candy onto Sandra's bed, he relaxed.

"Pretty sure your mom heard me." She said. "But it's okay. I also brought her favorite."

"How-" Ed started to ask, but stopped as the girl flopped into his room and onto the floor between the wall and the mattress.

"The great Kaitlyn makes her appearance once again!" She said while flaring her hands up in the air.

Ed rolled his eyes. "Will the 'Great Kaitlyn' need any assistance getting up?" He asked.

 _"No."_

...

"Yes."

"Alright." Ed muttered. He grabbed a random hand that poked out from the side of bed and pulled. She whipped her head up extravagantly and swished her hair away from her face. _"Hey."_ She said while wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"If you're trying to look appealing," Ed said. "I suggest that you do it after I completely lift you up."

Kaitlyn frowned and groaned at Ed. "I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about."

Ed tugged her arm again and she popped out off the wedge. She laughed as she pointed at Ed.

"Your boobs totally bounced."

Ed blushed and crossed his arms, trying to cover what he could, despite the fact that he was already swathed in wool. "The-they did not!" He stammered at her.

"What's going on up here?"

Both teens turned to the doorway, as Sandra's mother walked into the room. She looked at Ed's calming blush and turned to Kaitlyn. "Don't tease my daughter."

Kaitlyn bit her lip and looked at the floor. "Don't know what you're talking about." She mumbled as she played innocent.

"Does your father know you're here?" Sandra's mother asked.

Kaitlyn looked up and pointed a finger. " _Yes,_ Ms. Karins, _and,_ I brought you something."

Sandra's mother looked at Ed and shrugged as Kaitlyn turned to the bed and pulled out a bag from the pile of wrappers. She walked back and tossed it to Sandra's mother.

She caught it with both hands. "Twizzlers." She said, without looking at the bag. "Is this a bribery?"

Kaitlyn scoffed. "Of course not. I would _never_."

"Ok, sure." Ms. Karins said while walking out of the bedroom.

Kaitlyn turned to Ed. "So what now? Movies? Games?"

* * *

An apology.

At least that's what Al suggested.

Riza doubted that they needed one to cheer Sandra up, but Mustang wanted to at least accompany Alphonse to speak with Sandra. He fiddled with his coat collar while walking through the hallway with Al.

 _'Stop acting like she's your daughter you dumbass. Just say something to make her feel better.'_

"Do you want me to talk to her first?" Al asked.

Roy cleared his throat. "It's better you than me. You have a way of calming a person."

Al laughed softly. "I'm not even sure how's she going to respond. It's not like I always talk to people who've gotten their souls misplaced."

"But it's best that you to talk to her because you...both have something in common." Roy replied slowly.

Al glanced at Mustang before stopping in front of the dorm that Sandra was in. He knocked on the door lightly.

"Sandra? You up?"

Something stirred inside the room, and then a groan. Mustang and Al shared a look, before the former put his hands in his pockets.

"You must've woken her up."

Al knocked on tne door again, with a little more force. "Sandra can you open the door."

There was no reply. Alphonse proceeded to lift a gauntlet to the door, when they heard a weak sound.

"Say that again? I couldn't hear you."

"... I can't."

"Why-"

"Alphonse stop." Mustang interjected. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Just listen." He whispered.

They stood quietly in the hallway, waiting for whatever Mustang appeared to have heard. Al felt awkward, standing by the door so close trying to catch a sound.

Mustang put a finger up. "Now."

It wasn't really a faint sound, more like an average tone, but Alphonse still needed to strain to hear clearly. It sounded like a small squawk, and in between each was a wet cough.

Suddenly, Mustang jabbed at the doorknob.

"She's dry heaving." He said hurriedly.

They both flew into the room without a warning and found Sandra huddled in the bathroom.

Al knelt by her side and held her steady while pushing her hair back, and Mustang immediately flushed the toilet due to the stench of vomit. He picked up a cup from the sink and filled it quickly with water, while Sandra began to cough.

After a few hoarse barks, she nimbly grasped the cup. "You couldn't have just opened the fucking door?" She groaned after spitting the water into the toilet. "I couldn't get up."

Mustand and Alphonse stared at each other with the same worried concern. Mustang felt Sandra's forehead, uttering a small curse.

"She has a fever."

Sandra cried out suddenly, and Al let go of his tightened grip on her arm.

"Let's get her to bed."

As they moved her to the bunk bed, Al removed the red coat and draped it over a nearby chair.

Mustang picked up the phone handle from the receiver and dialed his private number. After a short ring, Hawkeye picked up the phone.

 _"Mustang's office."_ She said curtly.

"Hawkeye, I need you call that doctor."

 _"Is something wrong?"_ She replied calmly but pointedly.

"Fullmetal's come down with something." He said.

 _"I see."_ She said. _"Do you want me to ask Fallman for some suggestions?"_

"Yes."

 _"And sir?"_

"Yes?"

 _"Please refer to_ 'That Doctor' _as Dr. Jethrem. Edward may not like hospitals but he has an understanding with him."_

Mustang sighed. "Very well."

Placing the phone handle back in the receiver, he turned to find Sandra with just a tanktop on, Ed's bare automail glinting softly from the hallway light.

Sandra had a faraway look in her eyes. Curious, Mustang pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat be her.

"Warring flashbacks?" He joked.

Sandra blinked slowly. "You could say that." She said.

Mustang stared. "From...the transfer?"

Sandra turned her head and scanned Mustang's face, obviously dazed by the effects of the fever. "Don't I wish." She replied slowly.

"Then what?" Mustang felt himself asking. He knew that it was wrong to take advantage of her sickness, but he wanted to find out more about her.

"You'd think a girl as young as sixteen wouldn't know what a gunshot sounded like." She answered calmly.

Mustang felt jarred. He put a hand to the back of his head and diverted his gaze. Should he...?

"Or blood spatter." Sandra continued.

Mustang shuffled in his seat. "Is that why you can't hold a smile for very long?"

Sandra smiled softly before chuckling. "For someone nicknamed "Wet match" you sure have a bright eye for spotting things."

"Well, you just have to put some context clues together." Mustang said.

"Yeah."

Al left the bathroom with a wet rag and placed it on Sandra's forehead, nodding at Mustang in silent understanding.

"What I wouldn't give." Whispered Sandra, too silent for either of them to hear.

* * *

"Come on, again."

"No, Kaitlyn. This is the fifth Twenty One Pilots song in a row." Ed said. He folded his arms.

"Come ooon," Kaitlyn repeated. "You act like you don't like this song."

"I kinda like it, but I have my limits."

Kaitlyn scoffed. "Which is?"

Edward rolled his eyes. _"Not_ listening to a song so many times I hate it."

"Pleeease? Just one more?" She asked.

Ed groaned. "One. More. Song. That's it."

Kaitlyn threw her hands in the air. "Yay!"

"Kaitlyn, you have to go home!" Ms. Karins yelled from below.

Kaitlyn's arms fell. "Aww."

Ed stood up from Sandra's bed and opened the window. "Alright. Back to the depths from whence you came."

Ms. Karins' voice called again. "And through the front door this time!"

Ed slowly shut the window..

Few minutes later, Ed waved at Kaitlyn by the doorway leaning on the frame. When she left his plane of veiw, he closed the door and walked into the kitchen.

"Sandra, I wanna ask you something." Sandra's mom said.

"Shoot."

Ms. Karins chuckled nervously. "I was called for a special job placement down in Cuba for a journalism opportunity. Now, I would usually let you stay with your grandparents, but I want to know if you want to come with me on this trip?"

Ed was in the middle of pouring juice. "How...long will we be gone?" He asked.

"A few weeks."

Ed took a slow sip. He had to check where Cuba was, obviously, and just make sure it wasn't a really hostile place. And _transport._ Ed knew he didn't want to be airborne for a while.

"Can I think about it?" He asked.

"Sure. But we have a week before I need to start packing."

"Alright." Ed finished his glass of juice and put it in the sink. He made his way up the stairs, already checking the phone befoe hitting the first step.

* * *

 **What's this?**

 **A chapter? During hiatus?**

 **My word!**

 **My goodness it's almost 6am where I live and I haven't slept a wink. Hiatus isn't broken but it will be soon, don't worry.**

 **Also, I wanted to started a guessing game, if you guess the song by context clues or straight band name, I'll write down a headcanon I have but can't actually put down, I don't know I just want to try it.**

 **Thank you for reading please review, and as always, Ed's a pipsqueak.**

 **Bye!**


	12. Matter of importance

After some time and consideration, I've decided to postpone the story indefinitely. I realized that I can't continue it like I want to, mainly because of my time constraints, and because of my limited resources.

I know that sounds like a horrible excuse, and I'm really sorry for letting you guys down, the reviews you've all sent mean so much to me, but I just can't see myself finishing the story.

I know some of you as much more talented writers than myself, so I'm leaving the option of story adoption. While this will remain up, anyone who wants to take up the story can message me if they want to, I won't push it o to anyone.

Sorry again.


End file.
